


A Love Story

by Jestana



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Don't copy to another site, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:47:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 14
Words: 26,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22514962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jestana/pseuds/Jestana
Summary: Malika Cadash finds herself attracted to both Josephine Montilyet and Warden Blackwall. Must she choose or can she have both?
Relationships: Blackwall | Thom Rainier/Female Cadash/Josephine Montilyet, Blackwall | Thom Rainier/Female Inquisitor/Josephine Montilyet
Kudos: 4





	1. Rose

**Author's Note:**

> [This](https://scharoux.tumblr.com/post/190457532424/decided-to-have-some-fun-with-upcoming-valentines) post crossed my Tumblr dash, so I decided to write a slightly different version of my epic Mal/Josie/Blackwall fanfic that I've yet to post anywhere. It focuses on their romance and skips major events, though I hopefully provide enough context for readers to know when each part takes place during Inquisition.
> 
> If you want to know what Mal looks like, [have](https://lainathiel.tumblr.com/post/184920621718/june-oc-portrait-art-giveaway) a couple screenshots.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It starts with the giving and receiving of roses.

Josephine stared in surprise once she sat down at her desk in Haven's chantry. A vase had appeared on it overnight, containing a few small roses. When she picked it up to look at them more closely, she spotted an envelope that had been hidden underneath it with her name on it in carefully blocky printing: _Josephine_. Setting the vase down, she picked up the envelope and opened it:

_Dear Lady Josephine,_

_These roses are rather small, but they should bloom with some care. I hope they bring a smile to your face whether they bloom or not, for you bring a smile to **my** face whenever I think of you. With all fondness, I hope you have a lovely day today._

_Affectionately,  
An admirer_

Warmth had suffused Josephine's cheeks by the time she finished reading the note. She'd no idea _anyone_ regarded _her_ in such a light. Picking up the roses once more, she breathed in their lovely scent gladly. Ever since she'd come to Haven, it'd been so cold and snowy that she'd started to miss the brightness and color of flowers that were abundant at lower elevations. She studied the note thoughtfully, wondering who could have sent it. Josephine was so intent on the note that she didn't notice Leliana's arrival until the spymaster asked, "What's that, Josie?"

"Oh! Leliana!" Blushing, Josephine tried to casually slide the note under her writing board, but Leliana was too quick, snatching up the sheet with a quick, deft motion. "That's not Inquisition business. It's personal."

Leliana arched her eyebrows, not yet looking at the note. "Are you _sure_ , Josie?"

"If you _must_ know," Josephine sighed, resigned to explaining, "it's from an admirer."

A wry smile curved Leliana's lips. "Whoever they are must be in the Inquisition, so it _is_ Inquisition business."

"You know what I mean," Josephine told her, more amused than annoyed. Her friend was _very_ protective of Josephine and she _usually_ didn't mind.

Leliana held the note out to Josephine without looking at it. She plucked it from Leliana's fingers gratefully. "Did this person send you the roses, too?"

"Yes, they did," Josephine confirmed, breathing in their scent once more.

When she looked up at Leliana, her friend had a slight frown on her face. "I invited you here to be the Inquisition's ambassador, not for anyone to toy with your affections."

"Anyone who takes the time to pick flowers and disguise their handwriting isn't the sort to toy with someone's affections," Josephine countered, moving her hand to cover Leliana's gloved one where it rested on the desk.

Leliana nodded, absently chewing her bottom lip, a habit she usually stifled. "I know, but _please_ tell me if it's not going well." Leliana leaned forward slightly, blue-gray eyes intent.

"You will be the _first_ to know if something goes wrong," Josephine assured Leliana.

Another nod, pleased this time, and turned to leave. "Thank you, Josie."

"Thank _you_ , Leliana," Josephine murmured to herself once Leliana was out of earshot. She smelled the roses one last time before setting them down and beginning the day's work.

*

Blackwall put the finishing touches on his latest carving: a rose on the cusp of blooming. He nearly dropped it when a cheerful voice spoke up at his shoulder. "That's pretty, Broody Beard. Is it for a special lady?"

"Oh, well, I hadn't decided yet," he answered evasively, keeping his eyes on the carving to avoid looking up at Sera.

His new friend made a rude noise. "Yeah, right, pull the other one. I _know_ you like Glowy. You couldn't take your eyes off her when you two first met."

"I noticed she's been picking roses," he explained quietly, glancing around to be sure Malika wasn't nearby. The Herald of Andraste was nowhere to be seen.

Sera giggled. "Yeah, she _has_ been, hasn't she? D'you know _why_ she's been picking them?"

"She thinks they're pretty?" Blackwall hazarded, wondering what Sera was getting at.

Another giggle. "Well, yeah, but there's more to it than that."

"Hmm, right." He nodded, turning the carving over in his hands. "Thank you, Sera."

Sera patted his shoulder. "Sure, whatever, Beardy."

He barely noticed her departure as he pondered how to find out what Malika did with the roses and other flowers she picked.

*

Sneaking into Josephine's office to leave the bouquet of roses she'd collected on their latest foray from Haven, Malika stopped in her tracks. A new rose already waited on Josephine's desk: one carved from wood, stained and polished to shine in the little light that filtered into the small chamber. Amused that someone _else_ seemed to admire Josephine, Malika still replaced the wilted flowers she'd last given Josephine with the fresh ones. _A beautiful, gracious lady like Josephine deserves all the beauty in Thedas._

She left as silently as she'd entered and returned to the small cabin that was her home in Haven. For the second time in less than half an hour, Malika stopped in her tracks. Just like in Josephine's office, she stopped because of a carved wooden rose. This one rested on the small table in the front room of her cabin. When she picked it up to examine it, she noticed a note, not unlike the one she'd left for Josephine with the first bouquet of roses. Opening it, a simple message was written on the parchment: _I hope you don't mind a wooden rose._

"Why would I mind something that took so much skill and patience to make?" she murmured to herself, picking up the rose again.

This time, when she examined it, she found a clasp on the back. She could pin it to her shirt if she wanted. For the moment, she decided to leave it on her bedside table. She didn't want to give others any ideas just yet. Even if it _would_ be somewhat correct.


	2. Holding Hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The future Redcliffe was dark and painful, but also helped Malika clarify a few things in her own head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prompt for this one is 'holding hands'.
> 
> The first two scenes are from the future Redcliffe Malika saw and _very_ angsty. The first references torture but doesn't describe it and ends with a character death.

No matter how many times Josephine refused to give them a satisfactory answer, Alexius's torturers continued to ask how Malika had known of the Elder One's plans at the Temple of Sacred Ashes. Even if she _had_ known the truth, Josephine wouldn't have told them anyway. This time, the almost-daily routine was disrupted by the door slamming open. Josephine stared at Malika and the mage, who stood framed in the doorway for only a moment. Then the mage--Dorian was his name-- gestured and a fireball slammed into the torturer's chest. The force of it sent him flying across the room. A couple arrows from Sera, whom Josephine could now see behind Malika and Dorian, ensured the Venatori wouldn't get up. Malika rushed to Josephine's side and pulled out a knife to cut the ropes on her ankles while Blackwall cut the ropes around her wrists. Josephine _knew_ her legs wouldn't support her weight, so she just fell to her knees between them. "Josephine!"

"You're alive?" she asked as Malika pulled her into her lap. She tried to lift a hand to touch Malika's cheek, but she didn't have the strength anymore.

Noticing this, Malika gently caught her hand and pressed it to her cheek. Josephine let out a shuddering sigh of relief at the feel of warm flesh against her palm. "We were sent forward in time. As soon as we find Alexius, we'll go back and _fix_ this."

"You must succeed," Josephine told her, letting her hand fall from Malika's cheek now that she was sure the Herald was really there. "Leliana is down the corridor. She can help."

Malika seemed to blink back tears, her hand trembling as she stroked Josephine's cheek. "I'm sorry you had to go through this."

"Stop him, Malika," she whispered, finding it difficult to keep her eyes open.

Different hands picked up Josephine's hand, warm and strong, followed by another voice she'd missed: "My lady."

"Ser Blackwall." With some difficulty, she turned her head to look at him, her heart sinking when she realized he'd been poisoned with red lyrium. "Make sure Mal succeeds."

Blackwall nodded, his eyes never leaving hers as he brought her hand up to brush a whiskery kiss across the back. "I will, Josephine."

"Good." Knowing that the past year of death and torture would be undone, Josephine let herself drift away with a last breath. _She **will** succeed. She **must**._

*

From the moment he realized that the red lyrium had infected him, Blackwall _knew_ his days were numbered. He didn't know how many, but he would soon join Malika in death. Except she appeared outside his cell, alive and well, and offered him a chance to go down fighting. Of _course_ he took that chance, happy to fight by her side once more. He hadn't expected to say good-bye to Josephine, but it was a bittersweet end for the Inquisition's ambassador, surrounded by friends. Her last words to him rang in his ears when the ground shook under their feet, followed by the roar of his archdemon. Grimly, Zevran announced what they all knew: "The Elder One."

"There's a reason they won," Blackwall added, realizing what he must do. He couldn't cast the spell, but he _could_ buy Dorian the time he needed to do so. He turned to Sera who hadn't smiled _once_ since Malika and Dorian disappeared in a burst of green magic the year before. He nodded to her and she nodded back. They both accepted their fate. It'd only be temporary for Malika anyway, provided Dorian succeeded. Turning back to the others, he told them: "We'll go on ahead. Take out as many as we can. Leliana, Zevran, you're the last line of defense. Give them what you've got."

Much to his surprise, Malika darted towards him and hugged him tight. "I can't let you kill yourselves for me. There must be another way..."

"We're already dead," Leliana pointed out as Blackwall hugged Malika back and stroked her dark red hair. It was softer than he thought it would be.

Sera added herself to the hug as Zevran continued Leliana's thought. "The only way we live is if this day never comes."

"Don't--" Tears spilled down Malika's cheeks.

Blackwall gently tilted Malika's chin up, but she kept her eyes closed. "Malika." He wanted to see her beautiful blue eyes one last time. When she shook her head, he said, "Mal, please." This time, her eyes flew open and she stared up at him. "There's so much I wish I could tell you, but there's no time." He cupped her cheek and she covered his hand with hers. "Maybe my past self will get off his ass and tell you. In case he doesn't, though--" With that, he kissed Malika like he'd been wishing to do for over a year. She kissed him back, hard and desperate. He pressed his forehead against hers, whispering, "Live and keep this from happening, Mal."

"I will," she whispered back, blinking away the tears that kept trickling down her cheeks, leaving streaks in the blood and dirt that almost hid her tattoos.

With that, he slowly backed away, holding Malika's hand for as long as he could. Sera gave an almost-jaunty salute and gently (for her) pushed him out of the great hall ahead of her. The doors closed behind them with a resounding thud. Taking a deep breath, Blackwall drew his sword and shield. The Venatori and their demons would pay a heavy price to get past the two of them. _Fix all this, Mal, so it **never** comes to pass._

*

It'd taken some doing on Malika's part, but she'd managed to convince Josephine and Blackwall to join her for a drink at the tavern. Sitting between them helped to push away her memories of the future Redcliffe. She'd dreamt of it since it happened and she wished she could have prevented their deaths at the time. Of _course_ going back in time _had_ ultimately saved them both, along with everyone else who'd died during that future. Still, it would have been nice to prevent their deaths even in that dark future. "Malika?"

"I'm sorry, Blackwall." She blinked and banished those thoughts. "I was thinking."

He looked at her curiously and Josephine asked what they were both likely wondering, "Thinking about what, Malika?"

"That future Redcliffe?" Blackwall's voice was gruff. "You and Dorian said it was bad, but..."

Malika nodded, taking a large gulp of her ale. "Yes, it was. I don't know what happened to everyone else, but you and Sera had been captured, Blackwall, and held in the dungeons."

"You mentioned Leliana in your report," Josephine reminded her gently.

Blackwall rested his hand on her shoulder, a familiar, welcome warm weight. "If you don't want to talk about it--"

"I do," she assured him quickly, reaching up to cover his hand with hers. "Yes, we found Leliana. She'd been tortured and she wasn't the only one.

Josephine frowned when Malika looked up at her, and then the blood seemed to drain from her face as realization dawned. "Me? They tortured _me_? Why?"

"They must have thought you had information they wanted," Blackwall suggested, gently tugging his hand free of Malika's grasp so he could reach over and clasp Josephine's hand.

Malika nodded, turning to cover their hands with hers. "Yes, they wanted to know how _I_ knew what they were doing at the Temple of Sacred Ashes."

"But I _don't_ know that," Josephine replied, looking confused. "Because _you_ don't know that."

Blackwall squeezed Josephine's hand gently. "They wouldn't have accepted that as an answer."

"Exactly." Malika swiped at her eyes with her free hand. "We stopped the torturer and freed you, but it wasn't enough. You-- you-- I--"

She stopped and swallowed hard, unable to finish the thought, let alone speak it. Josephine pulled Malika into a firm hug, Her voice gentle and understanding, "Oh, Malika."

"I'm _very_ sorry, Malika." Blackwall rested a hand on her back as she returned the hug gladly, wrapping her arms around Josephine as tightly as she dared.

Malika peered at him from Josephine's hug, her voice hoarse, "You-- you died, too."

That seemed to be enough for Josephine and she pulled Blackwall into the hug as well. He resisted, but she told him, "For Malika, Ser Blackwall."

"Yes, of course, my ladies." Clearing his throat, Blackwall wrapped his arms around both of them, warm and strong.

Malika smiled, finally relaxing now that she was _sure_ both of them were alive and well despite the memories that plagued her dreams when she slept. _I'm in **big** trouble. I want **both**._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to have Josie be the other torture victim to up the angst. A wild Zevran showed up because, in _this_ version of Dragon Age, the Hero of Ferelden (Laina Mahariel) is in a threesome with Leliana _and_ Zevran. So he and Laina (stupidly) rushed to save Leliana and ended up captured for their trouble.


	3. Bow and Arrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How can anyone survive Corypheus _and_ an avalanche?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prompt for this chapter is 'bow and arrow'.

Though she walked with Leliana and Cassandra at the rear of the procession of the remains of the Inquisition, Josephine remained quiet, her shawl wrapped tightly around herself. She kept glancing back for some sign of Cullen, Malika, Blackwall, Sera, or Dorian. It was a small hope that Malika would be with them. She may be immensely skilled with her bow and arrows, but what good were they against a _dragon_? The sound of voices drifted to them from further back on the path and they turned to wait for the others to catch up. She was very glad and relieved to see Cullen leading Blackwall, Sera, and Dorian along the path, but very worried to realize that Malika wasn't with them. Josephine moved to Blackwall's side, "Malika?"

"Still alive last we saw," he told her, catching her hand with his. "Though what she can do against that beast with just a bow and arrows, I have no idea.

Josephine squeezed his hand, hoping it comforted him. “She just might surprise us, Ser Blackwall."

"Maker, I hope so," he replied, returning the squeeze.

Still holding hands, they walked in silence. When they reached Iron Bull, he had _one_ blanket left. After a short argument over which of them should take it, they agreed to share it. Pressing against Blackwall's side so he could wrap the blanket around them both, Josephine was pleasantly surprised to realize that he seemed to give off heat, a bit like a hot water bottle. Before they set off after the rest of the Inquisition, Cullen reluctantly said, "Dorian, we're above the tree line. If you would?"

" _Kaffas_ ," Dorian muttered, looking as if he'd really rather not. Nevertheless, he moved to a good spot and, pointing one hand up, sent a fireball high up into the sky above them.

As they waited for some sign that Malika had seen the fireball, Josephine pressed closer to Blackwall under their blanket. She gasped when a rock hurtled up from Haven and slammed into the mountainside. Blackwall wrapped his arm around her shoulders as they watched the subsequent avalanche of snow bury the village that had been the Inquisition's home for the past half-dozen months. The dragon flew away, roaring in defiance, as the snow settled. Tears spilling down her cheeks, Josephine turned and pressed her face into Blackwall's shoulder. He wrapped his other arm around her and told her, "She'll surprise us, Lady Josephine."

"An avalanche like that..." she whispered, clutching his gambeson with both hands.

Sera chimed in from beside them. "She's Glowy. You'll see."

"We need to keep moving," Cullen urged after a short silence.

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Josephine straightened up and scrubbed her cheeks. Blackwall looked at her with concern, reaching up to wipe her tears away with a thumb. "All right, my lady?"

"For now, yes," she replied, wiping at the tear tracks she could see trailing down his cheeks into his beard. "You?"

He nodded briefly and kept his one arm around her shoulders as they set off with the others. As they walked along, she slipped her arm around his waist. Blackwall glanced at her curiously. "My lady?"

"This is _hardly_ the time for propriety, Ser Blackwall," she reminded him.

He nodded again. "Very well, my lady."

As they trudged through the snow, Josephine prayed to the Maker: _Please keep her safe and bring her back to us._

*

"Hey, Broody Beard!" Sera greeted Blackwall with a grin when he emerged from the tent where Josephine slept, warm and safe from danger.

He turned to her with a curious smile, tying the last ties of his gambeson together. "Hello, Sera. Any word from our lookouts?"

"No sign of Glowy," she told him, her ever-present smile fading for a moment. It brightened and turned into a leer the next moment. "How's Lady Josie this morning?"

"Alive and warm," he answered shortly, heading to the cart where extra weapons were stored.

She nudged him with her elbow as she walked alongside him. "C'mon, Broody. We all know you spent the night with Lady Josie. You can tell me."

"I spent the night because she'd have frozen to death if I hadn't," he told her sharply, annoyed by the assumption that 'something' had happened when he'd slept with Josephine to save her life.

Sera stared at him with narrowed eyes as they reached the cart and he began testing the available bows. He wasn't as good an archer as Sera or Malika, but was skilled enough to hunt animals for food and fur. When he found one that suited him, he picked up a quiver of arrows and slung it over his shoulder. He turned to face Sera, wondering what she still had to say. "You're less fun than usual."

"Considering how much we lost, you're surprised?" Blackwall asked, now heading towards the nearby woods.

She ran a few steps to catch up with him. "No, but this is when we need to stay positive the most."

"Cheer is not my strong point," he reminded her. "It's yours."

"Yeah, it is." Sera giggled. "Fine. I _will_ see you smile someday, Broody Beard."

As she wandered back towards the camp, Blackwall muttered, "Not today, Sera."

Sighing deeply, he slipped amongst the trees to hunt down what animals he could. A half day's worth of hunting bagged him a couple foxes and a ram. Cabot thanked him for the meat and Harrit thanked him for the fur, which he handed off to one of his assistants to tan. After returning the bow and arrows, Blackwall pondered what he should do with himself next. "Ser Blackwall!"

He turned to greet the mage healer, "Yes, Miss Unam?"

"Lady Josephine is asking for you," the dark-skinned human woman told him. "She became quite agitated when I told her you'd gone hunting."

He nodded, his heart leaping at the thought that Josephine had asked for _him_ of all people. "I'll go to her at once."

"Good, thank you." Looking pleased, Miss Unam moved toward the cooking fire. "I'll bring some stew for you both shortly."

Nodding, Blackwall headed to the tent where Josephine had been sleeping peacefully. He ducked inside to find her sitting up in her nest of blankets, hazel eyes wide and worried. A relieved smile spread across her face when she saw him. "Oh, Ser Blackwall! I was worried because I had a dream that you'd stayed at Haven with Malika and died with her in the avalanche."

"No, I'm here, Lady Josephine," he assured her, kneeling beside her and bringing one of her hands up to press against his cheek.

She cupped his cheek properly, her smile brightening. "Oh, thank the Maker. I know it's silly for a dream to bother me, but it was so _real_."

"It's not silly at all, my lady," Blackwall wished he could do more to assure her, keenly aware that they were alone for the moment.

Josephine looked at him with hopeful hazel eyes. "Has there been any news about Malika?"

"None, my lady," he answered reluctantly. The thought of her sacrificing herself to save all of them not only increased his admiration for the dwarf, but also saddened him because he didn't want to _lose_ her after such a short acquaintance.

She nodded, looking determinedly hopeful. "I'll keep praying to the Maker to deliver her somehow. I can't-- We can't--"

"I know." He pressed his forehead against hers, hoping the contact would help.

She stared up at him, something in her eyes that he didn't dare try to name. Just as his gaze flitted from her eyes to her lips, the tent flap opened and Miss Unam entered, carrying two steaming bowls. "I have fox and ram stew here. I want you _both_ to eat _every_ morsel."

"Yes, Miss Unam," Josephine answered as Blackwall quickly sat back on his heels.

They accepted their bowls and Miss Unam swept out as quickly as she'd entered. Alone with Josephine once more, Blackwall caught her glance. "I will pray for Malika's swift return to us, too, my lady."

"Thank you, Ser Blackwall." Josephine smiled and began to eat.

He began to eat, too, enjoying Josephine's quiet company. _Please, Mal, return to us soon._

*

The longer she trudged through the snow, hoping to find what was left of the Inquisition, the heavier Malika's bow and arrows felt on her back. She didn't want to just _leave_ them somewhere. Not just because she didn't want to lose the protection they provided, but she also didn't want to leave any clues as to her whereabouts. She glanced back at the trail of footprints she'd been leaving behind her. _Well, any **specific** clues._ Turning to face forward again, the remains of a campfire caught Malika's attention. Changing direction, she trudged over to check the embers. "Still warm. Recent?"

Encouraged, she turned and saw a large rock not too much further away. Taking a deep breath and hitching her quiver higher on her shoulder, Malika started towards the rock. Just a little further and she'd be with her friends. A little further and she'd see Blackwall and Josephine again. Just as she drew even with the rock, she heard voices: "There! It's her!"

"Thank the Maker!" At the sound of Blackwall's voice, Malika's knees buckled with relief and she slowly dropped to them in the snow. Familiar strong hands cupped her cheeks. "Mal!"

She leaned into his hands with a sigh of relief. "Mmm, Blackwall."

"She's cold," he reported, scooping her close. "We need to warm her up."

Malika snuggled gladly against Blackwall's chest, already starting to feel warm again. "Warm."

"Yes, I'm warm and _you're_ cold," Blackwall murmured, his lips brushing her forehead.

She clutched at his gambeson when she felt him stand up while holding her. "Stay."

"I'm taking you with me, Mal," he told her reassuringly. She clung to him as he began to walk. Malika pressed her face against his gambeson, breathing in the mingled scent of woodsmoke, armor polish, and leather than seemed to cling to him. Feeling protected, she let herself drift off to sleep.

When she slowly drifted awake, she found herself between Blackwall and Josephine. Lifting her head to look around, she saw that they were in a tent and practically _buried_ in blankets and furs. Relieved to have found the Inquisition, she snuggled further under the covers. In addition to Blackwall's familiar scent, she could now smell ink, parchment, and flowers, presumably from Josephine. She gave a soft hum of contentment and drifted back to sleep. When she next drifted to wakefulness, she was still snuggled between Josephine and Blackwall. Josephine's hand rested on her side, just above her waist. She kept still when Josephine lifted her hand up to catch Blackwall's arm. "Wait. Why are you leaving?"

"Mal's out of danger," Blackwall explained quietly. "I'm not needed."

She shifted enough to grab his hand, making both of them gasp in surprise. "Please stay, Blackwall. I like your company."

"Yes, we want you to stay for your _company_ , not just your warmth," Josephine added earnestly.

Much to Malika's delight, Blackwall slid back under the covers with them. "I can't deny you two ladies."

"Good!" Still holding Blackwall's hand, Malika tugged it so his arm rested around her waist.

Josephine kissed Malika's forehead softly. "You had us worried, Mal."

"How did you survive the avalanche?" Blackwall asked. "We _saw_ it bury Haven."

Malika squeezed his hand gently. "You'd be surprised what you can find when you get up early and take a walk."

"What did you find?" Josephine asked, combing her fingers through Malika's dark red hair.

Blackwall returned the gentle squeeze. "An escape route of some sort?"

"Yes, it was an abandoned mine." Malika nodded, twining her fingers with his. "After I set off the trebuchet, I just _ran_ for the mine and jumped down into it to avoid the avalanche."

Much to Malika's surprise, Josephine gathered her close for a tight hug, pressing her face to Malika's hair. "Thank the Maker you found it."

"Or the Stone," Blackwall added, freeing his hand so he could wrap his arms around both of them. "If that's what you prefer."

Malika didn't mind being squeezed between them. It was rather nice. "Honestly, I don't really _believe_ in the Maker _or_ the Stone. It doesn't matter to me."

"You're alive and safe with us," Josephine replied, kissing the top of her head.

Blackwall followed suit. "That's all that matters to us."

"All that matters to me, too," Malika replied, wrapping her arms around Josephine's waist and finding Blackwall's hand to clasp it once again. _Why am I happiest here with these two?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Miss Unam is an OC inspired by a friend's character.


	4. Napping Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Malika, Josephine, and Blackwall have a series of talks. And naps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prompt for this chapter is 'napping together'.

"Lady Josephine?" Blackwall's curious voice distracted Josephine from her work.

She looked up to see him standing by the couch where she sat, gazing down at the dwarf curled up with her head pillowed against Josephine's leg, fast asleep. Josephine gestured for quiet and whispered. "She asked if she could stay nearby while I worked."

"And that led to her curling up with her head practically in your lap?" Blackwall asked, his voice quieter this time.

Josephine nodded, her cheeks growing warm. "Well, yes. I think being the Inquisitor is weighing on her pretty heavily."

"I'd be surprised if it _didn't_." he sat down by Malika's feet. His hand hovered above her ankle for a moment before dropping to his leg. "I wish I could help."

She felt Malika shift slightly and dropped a hand down to stroke the dark red hair for a moment. "You _do_ help, Ser Blackwall. You protect her in the field and you're her friend here in Skyhold."

"She wants more than that," he confided, his voice barely above a whisper.

Josephine watched him out of the corner of her eye as she finished drafting yet _another_ letter for the Inquisition. "You turned her down. Even though you _clearly_ have feelings for her."

"Yes, I did." He scrubbed his face with his hands. "I-- She-- deserves someone better than me. I'm not worthy of her."

Blackwall started when Malika grumbled between them, "Former Carta here. If _anyone's_ not worthy, it's _me_."

"You're the Inquisitor now," Josephine replied, setting her work aside. She'd felt the hitch in Malika's breathing when Blackwall sat down and had known she was awake. "I imagine that will carry a _great_ deal of weight with most people now."

Blackwall looked away, into the fire in the fireplace. "She has duties now as the Inquisitor. She can't afford to be distracted."

"By you or just _any_ relationship?" Malika practically demanded, pushing herself up into a sitting position to better look at him.

Josephine shifted her position on the couch, very curious about Blackwall's answer. "Yes, which is it, Ser Blackwall?"

"I--" he hesitated, looking from one to the other. Sighing, he said, "You should focus your attentions on Lady Josephine, Lady Malika."

With that, he stood up and walked quickly from the room. Malika watched him go, and then turned to Josephine. "Is there something _wrong_ with me?"

"No, Malika," Josephine replied, hugging the dwarf gently. "I think it's just the idea of becoming involved with the _Inquisitor_ that's unsettled him. Give him time and he'll come around."

Malika clung to Josephine, shaking a little. "I know we haven't known each other long, but I feel safest with both of you. I wish I didn't have to choose."

"So _don't_ choose," Josephine suggested, feeling her heartbeat speed up in her chest at the audacity of her suggestion.

Malika sat very still for a few moments, and then she slowly sat back and _stared_ at Josephine. "Are you saying what I think you're saying, Josie?"

"Yes, I am." Josephine met the beautiful blue eyes calmly and steadily. "I know you're the one who's been leaving the flowers on my desk. Except for the wooden one."

Though she blushed, Malika quickly told her, "Yeah, I'm no good at carving wood. Knives are _not_ my friends."

"I know." Laughing softly, Josephine kissed her forehead. "Blackwall, though, has been carving toys for the children."

A fond smile lit Malika's face. "He's just started a large woodworking project in the barn." Turning thoughtful, she asked, "You wouldn't mind sharing?"

"You're not the only one who's found herself attracted to two different people," Josephine told her with a fond smile.

Another smile, brighter this time. "Now we need to convince _Blackwall_ that we don't _care_ if he's worthy or not."

"We want _him_ ," Josephine added, firm and determined. "But, first--" Gently cupping Malika's cheek, she leaned down to kiss her.

When she lifted her head, Malika made a noise of protest and cupped the back of her neck, "Come back here." She drew Josephine down for another kiss. And another.

*

He should have known Malika wouldn't be surprised by his climbing onto the balcony of her quarters. When she spotted him, she only smiled and said, "I _knew_ you couldn't stay away."

"No, I couldn't," Blackwall confirmed with a sigh of exasperation, aimed at himself instead of her. "If only you knew how confounding you are," he mused thoughtfully, admiring the way her tunic and vest fit her. "How impossibly infuriating." Straightening up, he started walking towards her as he focused on the reason he'd come to see her. "I wanted to thank you for accompanying me to that ruin. I wanted to-- I just had to see you."

Coming to a stop before Malika, Blackwall gazed down at her, drawn to her open, curious expression. Unable to resist, he bent to kiss her, just once. She gasped at the suddenness of the kiss, but melted into it the next moment, responding eagerly. When he forced himself to pull back, Malika opened her eyes and asked, "Why'd you stop?"

"This is wrong," he explained, not quite able to meet her eyes. "I shouldn't even be here."

Malika raised her eyebrows with a cheeky smile. "What's the problem? A vow of celibacy? A dead wife?"

"No, it's nothing like that." Blackwall shook his head, wondering where she'd gotten those ideas. "I'm not what you want. I could never be what you deserve."

She gave a sigh of exasperation, rolling her blue eyes as she did. " _I_ decide what I deserve, not you."

"There's nothing I can offer you," he told her, wishing not for the first time that he'd made different choices. "You'd have no life with me."

Unexpectedly, a voice spoke up from the couch that faced the fireplace. He turned to see Jospehine Montilyet peering at them over the back of the couch, black hair pulled back into a single thick braid. "At the moment, Ser Blackwall, all our lives are tied up with the Inquisition."

"If you're talking about _afterwards_ ," Malika added, her smile turning rueful. "We don't know when that will happen or if we'll even _survive_ this fight."

Blackwall looked back and forth between them, wondering if they'd been talking. "You survived an _avalanche_ , Mal."

"Through sheer dumb luck," Josephine pointed out, standing up to lean one hip against the arm of the couch. He could see now that her elegant clothes were creased and rumpled, as if she'd been sleeping in them.

Malika reached up to cup his cheek. "We don't _know_ what will happen, Blackwall. I won't give up on either of you because of what _might_ happen who-knows-when."

"Either? What--" he stopped and stared as Josephine walked over to join them, taking one of his hands and one of Malika's.

Hazel eyes gazed at him steadily. "Mal and I have realized that we care for _you_ as well as each other, Ser Blackwall."

"So we're wondering how _you_ feel about _us_?" Malika added, tangling her fingers with Josephine's.

Blackwall swallowed hard. He'd been drawn to both women from the moment he'd met each of them. Malika because she'd been so open and direct about her attraction to him, Josephine because she'd been so unfailingly polite and gracious to everyone around her, even when they'd been unconscionably rude. "I-- are you _sure_ about this, my ladies?"

"We are, yes," Josephine assured him, giving his hand a squeeze.

Malika caught his free hand with hers and pressed a kiss to the back. "If you need time to think about it and get used to the idea, we'll give you that."

"Yes, I--" he nodded, his heart skipping a beat. "I _do_ need time."

Josephine nodded and moved closer. "Before you go, may I have a kiss? Like the one you gave Mal? It was a _very_ lovely sight to wake up to."

"It's only fair," Malika agreed, her eyes darkening as she looked between them.

His heart beating quickly, Blackwall rested his hands on Josephine's waist and kissed her, as hard and desperate as the kiss he'd given Malika. Josephine melted into the kiss, her arms slipping around his waist as she responded eagerly. Blackwall ended it reluctantly, not sure he could give up on either woman now, let alone _both_. "Happy, my lady?"

"For now." Josephine stroked his cheek lightly, looking quite flushed now. "Thank you."

Malika's eyes looked even darker as she glanced between them. "That was _hot_."

"I'll try not to take too long to think," he told them, forcing himself to drop his hands from Josephine's waist.

Malika slipped her arm around Josephine's waist the next moment. Josephine smiled as she slipped her arm around Malika's shoulders. "You'll know where to find us, Ser Blackwall."

"You'll always be welcome," Malika added, clearly looking him over.

Clearing his throat, he nodded and took several steps back. "Good night, my ladies."

"Good night, Ser Blackwall. "Good night, Blackwall."

With some force of will, he managed to turn and leave Malika's rooms the same way he'd entered them. _**Both**? Why didn't I ever consider **that** solution?_

*

Malika raised her eyebrows when she opened the door to the inn room she and Josephine were sharing to find Blackwall waiting on the other side. "My lady. May I come in?"

"Of course." She stepped back so he could enter. As Malika closed the door, she raised her voice enough for Josephine to hear. "Josie, we have a visitor."

Looking up from the work she'd been doing at the tiny table, Josephine gasped and quickly crossed the room to hug Blackwall tightly, burying her face in his gambeson. "I'm _so_ sorry, Ser Blackwall. If I'd known this would put you and Mal in danger..."

"It's not your fault, Lady Josephine." He hugged her back, pressing his face into her black hair. "You couldn't have _known_ this would happen."

Nodding, Malika gently guided them towards the nest of pillows and blankets she'd made in front of the fireplace. "That's what _I_ said. Besides, he didn't _actually_ try to kill her."

"Thank you for _not_ killing him, Mal," Josephine replied, sinking down into the nest with a small smile.

Blackwall removed his boots and gloves before sitting down beside Josephine. "I'm not sure that was wise, though."

"He didn't even _try_ to attack Josie," Malika reminded him, sitting down on Josephine's other side. "It would've been bad form to attack him for something he _didn't_ do."

Josephine nodded, winding her arm around Malika's shoulders when she leaned against Josephine's side. "Mal's right. I don't want more people to die because of me."

"We may not be able to avoid that, my lady Josephine." Blackwall told her in a quiet rumble. "Not if we follow your plan to elevate the Du Paraquettes to nobility."

Malika pressed closer to Josephine at the thought of assassins attacking her. "We'll keep you safe until this situation is resolved."

"I know you will, Mal." Josephine smiled fondly down at Malika, lightly tracing the tattoo on one of her cheeks. "I have no doubt that Leliana and Cullen will do their part, too."

Blackwall cleared his throat, sitting as tall as he could amongst the pillows and blankets. "My ladies, I came to see you for a slightly different reason."

"Oh?" Reluctantly, Malika sat up and found a spot where she could look at Blackwall. "What is it?"

Josephine shifted position as well, folding her slim, elegant hands in her lap. "We're all ears, Ser Blackwall."

"I've, um, thought about what you told me," he began, looking uncomfortable but determined. "About being attracted to each other _and_ me."

Malika nodded, exchanging a quick glance with Josephine. "I'm assuming you're bringing this up for a reason."

"Hush, Mal," Josephine gently rebuked her.

A smile twitched at Blackwall's mouth. "Yes, I'm bringing it up because I don't want to choose, either. I don't know why either of you _wants_ me, but I'll be yours if you'll have me."

" _If_ we'll have you?" Malika scoffed. "Of _course_ we'll have you."

Josephine laughed and gave her a nudge. "Go on and kiss him, Mal. I know you want to."

"Yes, my lady." Blackwall smiled and opened his arms to welcome her.

Grinning, Malika scrambled into his lap and pulled Blackwall's head down to hers for an eager, enthusiastic kiss. When they parted to catch their breath, Malika pressed her forehead against his. " _Thank_ you, Blackwall."

"My turn?" Josephine requested, managing to sound both patient and impatient at the same time.

Reluctantly, Malika moved to Blackwall's side so Josephine could scoot forward and kiss Blackwall, too. Afterwards, his forehead pressed against Josephine's, Blackwall lifted her hand to kiss the back. "Thank you, Lady Josephine."

"Josie," Malika corrected him, wrapping an arm around each of them.

When he looked at Josephine, she nodded. "Please call me Josie."

"My lady Josie," he replied, kissing her softly.

Malika rolled her eyes. "Close enough."

"Better than 'my lady Ambassador,'" Josephine mused, nestling against them.

Blackwall wrapped an arm around each of them as well. "Indeed."

"Consider yourself always welcome in my quarters now, Blackwall," Malika told them as they all cuddled together. "Unless I say otherwise, you can come and go as you please, even if I'm not at Skyhold."

Josephine laughed softly at his surprise. "She said much the same to me."

"I'm honored, my lady Mal." He tightened the arm he had around her waist.

She gave a sigh of exasperation, but didn't object any further, content to fall asleep with them in front of the fire. _I don't know who to thank for this good fortune, but I doubt it really matters. He's here and **that's** what matters._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying to work the personal quests in is... interesting.


	5. Love Letter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Love letters ease the pain of separation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prompt for this chapter was 'love letter'.

"I have something for you, Josie," Leliana told her friend in lieu of a greeting.

She looked up from her work curiosly. "What is it, Leliana?"

"A letter," her friend told her, holding it up for Josephine to see.

She smiled when she saw the handwriting on the envelope. "Oh, thank you, Leliana."

"This is from the Inquisitor," Leliana remarked, her tone studiously casual. " _And_ Ser Blackwall."

Josephine stifled a sigh. She should have known Leliana wouldn't leave it that. "Yes, I'm sure it is. May I have my letter, please?"

"It's not gone unnoticed that the three of you have been spending a great deal of time together," Leliana placed the letter in Josephine's hand, blue-gray eyes meeting hazel. "I asked you to join because you're a good ambassador, _not_ to have your heart and affections toyed with."

"I'm touched and honored by your concern, Leliana," Josephine replied, her words absolutely sincere. "However, Mal, Blackwall, and I are all adults who discussed what and who we wanted before we became involved."

Sighing, Leliana paced across the room and back. "I don't want to see you hurt, Josie."

"It's not that different from _your_ situation." She couldn't resist pointing this fact out to Leliana, even though it caused the Spymaster to wince. Both of her lovers were absent for Reasons. Laina had left on a quest of her own and her letters were few and _very_ far apart. Zevran wrote more often, but his letters were still sporadic, depending on whether he needed to remain incognito.

A heavy sigh and Leliana looked earnestly at her friend. "You know I have very few true friends, Josie. I don't want to lose any if I can help it."

"I'm happiest with both of them," Josephine confided, hoping it would reassure Leliana. "I can't say why both. I just... do."

A rare smile lit Leliana's face and she walked over to hug Josephine. "If you're happy, Josie, that's enough for me."

"Thank you, Leliana." Josephine returned the hug. She should have known that Leliana _would_ understand.

With a smile and a wink, Leliana left Josephine to her relative privacy to read her letter.

_Dear Josie,_

_We miss you. So much. It's kind of nice with just the two of us, but I don't sleep as well without you._

_**Nor do I. You'd think, after all those years living, traveling, and sleeping on my own, it wouldn't be a problem, but it is.** _

_Who knew Blackwall would be an emotional letter writer?_

_**I am not. This is all still very new to me. It's been less than a week, after all.** _

_If you insist, Blackwall. At the very least, this will entertain Josie._

_**That it will. How go your efforts to elevate the Du Paraquettes, my lady?** _

_She's just started on that, Blackwall. Give her a little more time. She's a good diplomat, but even Josie needs more time._

_**By the time this letter reaches her and she writes a reply, our lady ambassador should have made some progress, my lady Mal.** _

_We're sending this by bird, Blackwall. She'll get it sooner than that._

_**By bird? Isn't that misusing the Inquisition's resources?** _

_For the Inquisitor to keep the Ambassador up-to-date and aware of developments? Nope!_

_**I'm sure Sister Leliana and Commander Cullen share their reports with Lady Josie and that she shares her reports with them. We don't need to send this by bird.** _

_Just this once, we will. This is our first trip away from her since we talked. I want her to know that we miss her even now._

_**Of course we miss her.** _

_We'll be home as soon as we find our people in the Fallow Mire, Josie._

_Missing you, **my lady** Josie._  
_Mal and **Blackwall**_

Josephine smiled and laughed as she read their letter to her. She could _just_ picture them, too. Sitting together by the campfire, passing the parchment back and forth between them, whispering as they took turns writing. Smiling, she set aside her current letter and smoothed out a fresh, clean piece of parchment. Dipping her pen in her inkwell, Josephine began to write her response to their letter.

*

"Before you go, Your Worship," Lace told Malika before they could leave after she'd given her report on the area. "This letter arrived for you and Ser Blackwall yesterday."

Malika accepted the letter with a smile. “You _can_ call me by my name, you know, Lace.”

"A certain protocol should be maintained out in the field, Inquisitor," Lace replied, though Blackwall was certain she relaxed, just a little.

Nodding, Malika waved a hand. "All right. I get it." She turned to the rest of them. "It's too late to do anything today. Let's make camp so we're rested for tomorrow."

"We all know you just want to read your letter, Boss," Iron Bull told her with a sly grin. "But, sure, let's camp here."

Solas nodded respectfully to both Malika and Blackwall before following Iron Bull over to speak with one of the Inquisition agents. Catching hold of Blackwall's sleeve, Malika led him to a relatively quiet spot. "Shall we see what our lovely lady Josie has to say?"

"Of course, my lady Mal," he replied, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

Snuggling against his side, Malika broke the seal on the envelope and opened it.

_My dear Mal and Blackwall,_

_You **do** realize that you've all but **told** Leliana about us by sending your letter with her birds instead of more conventional means, yes? You're not **that** stupid, Mal, so I suppose you **want** Leliana to know about us. I don't mind, but please **ask** next time. Before you start to worry, no, I'm not mad. Blackwall, do give Mal a hug for me if she still looks worried. Even if she doesn't, for that matter._

_I miss you both dreadfully. The bed is **much** too empty without either of you. I know it is necessary, but I hadn't expected to miss you both **quite** so much. I hope you find our people quickly. Not just for their sakes, but also so you come back to me that much sooner. Does that shock you? That I am selfish enough to say I want you both here with me in Skyhold? I may have worked to establish a reputation of being selfless and patient, but even **I** have limits. I pray to the Maker that all goes well in the Fallow Mire and you return quickly and safely._

_Regarding the Du Paraquettes, I found a noble who will sponsor them, but she desires a favor in return. As usually happens in these matters. I know that Leliana suggested a quicker way to end this threat on my life, but I've told you that I don't want anyone else to die because of me. Even if they **are** a guild of assassins. I keep telling Leliana: 'Niceness before knives.' If you wish to elevate the Du Paraquettes, Countess Dionne would like some news about her lover, Ellery. He was a mage who disappeared after the war broke out. Once we give her that news, she will gladly sponsor the Du Paraquettes._

_Hurry back, my darlings. I miss you more with each day that passes._

_Josephine_

"I'm torn about what to do regarding the Du Paraquettes," Malika admitted quietly. "On the one hand, I want to follow Josie's wishes and avoid killing people."

He squeezed her shoulders gently, understanding her problem all too well. "But that takes time and leaves Lady Josie vulnerable to an attempt by the House of Repose."

"Exactly." Sighing, Malika turned and rested her forehead against his chest. "On the other hand, I _could_ have Leliana send her people to destroy the original contract and, thus, end the threat more quickly."

Blackwall shook his head, stroking Malika's hair gently. "That would mean more deaths because of Lady Josie and that's not what she wants."

"Something to think about." Malika sighed heavily and reluctantly straightened up. "C'mon, let's help Bull and Solas finish setting up camp."

He gently held her still and Malika looked up at him curiously. "Was Lady Josie right? Part of your reason for using the birds was to let Leliana know about the three of us?"

Cheeks flushing, Malika nodded and looked down at her feet. "Yes. I realize now that I should asked _both_ of you first."

"Yes, you should have." Blackwall kissed the top of her head, touched that she wanted to tell people about them. "I'll forgive you this once, but this won't work if we don't _talk_ to each other."

She nodded, looking up to meet his eyes. "I'm not ashamed of our relationship, Blackwall. It's part of why I did it."

"Nor are we," he assured her, hoping Josephine would forgive him for speaking for her. "You have a _very_ powerful and _very_ dangerous enemy, though, who wouldn't hesitate to attack you through us."

The blood seemed to drain from her face and Malika wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug. "I won't let you die for me again if I can help it."

"You may not be able to prevent it, my lady," he told her quietly, gently stroking her hair once more. When he'd joined the Inquisition, Blackwall had promised to lay down his life for her if he must and he would hold to that promise.

She shook her head, her voice muffled, but clear enough. "Nope!"

"Well, that's a worst-case scenario." Blackwall tried to clear his throat of the lump that had formed over Malika's distress at the thought of losing him. Again. "I don't intend to die anytime soon anyway."

"Good."

*

Writing love letters to Josephine with Blackwall was the only _good_ part about the Fallow Mire. It was cold and damp, making it particularly difficult for Blackwall and Iron Bull to fight. At least Malika and Solas could shoot and cast from a distance. By the time they defeated the Avvar keeping the Inquisition soldiers captive and freed their people, all four of them were heartily sick of the bog and gladly rode home to Skyhold. Sniffing her sleeves, Malika told Blackwall, "I don't think we'll _ever_ get the smell of that place out of our clothes."

"Lady Josie probably won't want to come near us until we take baths," Blackwall agreed after sniffing his gambeson.

Grinning, she nudged her pony, Lya, to walk alongside his horse, Tormund. "We could _share_ a bath."

"The thought _had_ crossed my mind," he confided with a sly smile.

She grinned even wider, pleased that she wasn't the _only_ one who'd been thinking along those lines. "I'm sure Leliana's people are keeping Josie and the others apprised of our progress."

"Of course they are," Iron Bull interjected from behind them. "Red's clever like that."

Blackwall's cheeks reddened under his beard and he cleared his throat. "I look forward to not smelling like a bog anymore."

"Same here." Malika wasn't at all embarrassed that Iron Bull might have heard them talking about bathing together.

Snorting, Iron Bull said, "Pretty safe to say that we're _all_ looking forward to that, Boss."

"Quite true," Solas concurred, stirring from his quiet contemplation to finally contribute.

When they finally reached Skyhold, Josephine, Cullen, and Leliana greeted them with relieved smiles and wrinkled noses. "There's fresh hot water waiting for you in your quarters, Inquisitor."

"Thank you, Josephine." Nodding, Malika headed that direction. Blackwall, who tended to use the servants' passages, had beat her to her rooms and begun disrobing.

Though she'd have _gladly_ watched Blackwall strip down (he was _more_ handsome than she'd suspected), Malika was too eager to get clean to delay her bath. She undressed as quickly as she could and padded naked into the bathing room off her quarters. A tub large enough for _Iron Bull_ to stretch out comfortably waited, full of gently steaming water. She climbed in and sank down into the warm water with a happy sigh. "You really aren't body shy, are you?"

"No, she isn't." While Malika had expected Blackwall's voice, her eyes snapped open at the sound of Josephine's voice as well.

The two humans stood beside the tub, looking amused. Josephine was fully dressed, but Blackwall had only a towel wrapped around his waist. This left his barrel chest with its dusting of dark hair and scattered scars bare and Malika licked her lips at the sight. Looking up to meet his eyes, she told him in a husky voice, "C'mon in Blackwall, the water's fine."

"I'm sure it is." Chuckling, he unwound the towel and draped it over a nearby chair.

The moment he stepped into the tub and sat down so the water reached his collarbone, Malika moved to his side and kissed him, hot and hungry. He responded in kind, wrapping his arms around her so he could squeeze her bottom. She squeaked in surprise, and then started giggling. He chuckled and that ended the kiss. "If I didn't know better, I'd think the two of you were the ones who'd been parted for weeks."

"We shared a tent with Bull and Solas," Malika explained, watching avidly as Josephine undressed, revealing lovely golden-brown skin, smooth and silky. "All we could do was cuddle."

Blackwall cleared his throat and Malika grinned when she realized just _how much_ Josephine was affecting him. "Especially since we all cuddled together for warmth."

"Poor things." Leaving her hair pinned up, Josephine stepped into the tub and slowly sank to her knees beside them.

Smiling brightly Malika tugged Josephine close for another hot, hungry kiss. When they parted, both were smiling. "There, a _much_ better way to say hello."

"Indeed, my lady." With that, Blackwall gently turned Josephine towards him for his own kiss. Malika pressed close, watching intently.

Josephine clutched at Blackwall's shoulders when they finally parted to catch their breath. "Oh, my. With kisses like that when you come home, the separation when you have to go out in the field just _might_ be worth it."

" _Nothing_ will make a separation from you worthwhile, Josie," Malika told her seriously.

Blackwall nodded his agreement, gathering both of them close, the water making them slide against each other easily. "I much prefer holding _both_ of my ladies close to writing love letters."

"Honestly? I feel the same, Blackwall." Josephine wrapped her arms around them as well.

Malika pressed her forehead against theirs, winding her arms around them as far as they would go. "Love letters suffice when we don't have a choice, but I will _always_ choose to be with you two if I can."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to show that things aren't perfect now that they're together. They still need to make some adjustments.


	6. Fighting Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The couple (or trio) who fights together stays together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's prompt is 'fighting together'.

The moment the maid entered, Josephine _knew_ something was off. She didn't recognize the woman, but the Inquisition was still hiring people as it grew. The maid placed the tea service on the low table before the fireplace. "Is that everything, Lady Montilyet?"

"Yes, thank you." She finished drafting her current letter and stood up to walk over and begin pouring the tea for herself, Malika, and Blackwall.

As she moved back out of Josephine's path, the maid flicked her right arm. The firelight gleamed on the dagger that suddenly appeared in her hand and Josephine ducked back in time to avoid the first stab of the weapon. "A contract is a contract, Ambassador."

"I know," Josephine replied, snatching up her writing board to block a second stab. "I'm sorry about this."

With that, she screamed as loud as she could. She blocked a third attack as the door from the great hall slammed open. "Oh, no you don't!"

"Watch out, Blackwall!" Malika yelled from the other door as he charged across the room and grabbed the maid. "She has another dagger!"

Josephine slammed her board into the woman's wrist as she lifted her other hand, a second dagger gleaming in the firelight. "Try not to kill her, please!"

"She won't show us the same courtesy," Blackwall replied, grunting when the maid managed to free her other hand and took a swipe towards Josephine.

Malika darted in and punched the woman so she crumpled in Blackwall's arms. "There."

"Is-- did you kill her?" Josephine asked, her voice shaking now.

Blackwall pulled his glove off and felt for the vein in the assassin's neck. He looked up at them. "She's still alive."

"What should we do with her after we question her?" Leliana asked from the doorway to the great hall. "It might be best to kill--"

"No, Leliana," Malika interjected, offering her hand to Josephine.

She gladly took her hand and let Malika pull her to her feet. She hadn't even realized she'd fallen to her knees. "Niceness before knives."

"Are you all right, Lady Josie?" Blackwall asked, stepping over to join Josephine and Malika now that Leliana's agents had the assassin in hand.

She nodded, leaning into her lovers when they gathered her into a tight three-way hug. "A little shaken, but fine."

"I'm so glad we were here for you," Malika told her.

Leliana loudly cleared her throat and they reluctantly parted so they could look at her. "I assure you, Inquisitor, I _will_ find out how she got past both my people and Cullen's."

"Thank you, Leliana," Josephine told her with a wan but sincere smile.

Blackwall took Josephine's hand. "What else do you need to do to elevate the Du Paraquettes?"

"I've found a judge who will sign the paperwork, but I need to speak with Cullen," Josephine told them, resting her other hand on Malika's shoulder. The sooner she finished arranging these favors, the better. "Judge Auld would like some of our soldiers to accompany him on a hunt in the Frostbacks in exchange for his signature."

Malika nodded and covered Josephine's hand with hers. "I'm sure he will, if he knows it's to help keep you safe from another attempt like this."

"Let's have our tea first," Blackwall suggested, leading them over to the couch.

Josephine sat down with a sigh, amused to realize that her lovers had sat down on either side of her. _No one_ was going to threaten her now.

*

"That's the fort Mayor Dedrick told us about," Malika told them as they approached Caer Bronach along the road.

Blackwall glanced at her with raised eyebrows. "Should we knock?"

"After you, Broody," Sera told him, drawing an arrow from her quiver.

Dorian spun his staff once. "Ready when you are, Blackwall."

"Go ahead," Malika told him, her bow at the ready and an arrow on the string.

Nodding, he led the charge to the gates, slamming into it with his shield. A few good blows and a well-placed fireball from Dorian left it in ruins. As the others gathered behind him, the bandits began yelling, "We're under attack! Release the dogs!"

"Oh, for-- again?" Malika grumbled. "I _hate_ killing dogs."

Blackwall spotted one charging towards them and took several steps forward to smash it with his shield, following it up with his sword in the dog's throat. "Focus on the men, Mal. We'll get the dogs."

"Just be careful, Blackwall," Malika told him, a blue-fletched arrow flying past him to catch a bandit in the shoulder. " _Stone_."

Spotting another dog, Blackwall charged forward to intercept it. Another crashed into him, knocking him flat on his back. Dropping his sword for the moment, Blackwall slammed his gauntleted fist into the dog's temple. As it shook its head, he rolled out of the way. A red-fletched arrow and a fireball took care of the two dogs as Blackwall grabbed his sword and stood up. "Ew, burning fur."

"Would you rather they'd eaten Blackwall's face?" Dorian asked Sera archly.

Malika pressed against his side for a moment, clasping his hand. "We're not done yet, you two. There's more bandits further in."

"I don't hear barking. I think that was all the dogs." Blackwall squeezed Malika's hand for a moment, relieved that they were all still standing.

She returned the squeeze, and then started for the stairs that led further into the keep. "Let's go."

"Make sure to focus on the baddies, Beardy," Sera teased as they followed Malika. "And not Glowy's backside."

Dorian fell in on Blackwall's other side. "He can't see it right now, anyway, what with the coat she's wearing."

"I can still hear you," Malika told them over her shoulder, sounding amused. "There's more bandits ahead. Blackwall?"

Nodding, he readied his sword and shield again and led the charge into the next area of the keep. Several arrows hit his shield and clattered to the ground. "The warrior!"

"I don't think so!" When Blackwall turned from dispatching an opponent, he saw that a bandit archer lay dying, a blue-fletched arrow in his throat. Judging by his location, he must have been moving to shoot Blackwall from behind.

He took that in all in a moment and turned to resume fighting. Once all their enemies were down, Blackwall took a moment to test his body. The muscles were sore and he could feel some bruises forming. "What's the matter, getting _old_ , Blackwall?"

" _You_ try fighting with a sword and shield sometime, Dorian," Malika retorted, rummaging in her pockets. "Here, Blackwall."

He accepted the healing potion with a grateful smile and downed it, hardly noticing the bitter aftertaste. "Thanks, my lady."

"I'll leave the heavy lifting to the people who've _trained_ for it," Dorian declared, leaning on his staff in an almost-careless pose.

Sera cackled suddenly. "Are you saying that Glowy's _fat_ , Dorian?"

"Dwarves _do_ tend to weigh more than you'd think, Sera," Malika pointed out while Blackwall's cheeks grew warm under his beard. He should have known their friends would figure out the truth eventually.

Dorian glanced between Blackwall and Malika, frowning. "I thought-- Wait--" he stepped close to Malika and whispered something to her. She laughed and nodded. He gave an amused chuckle in reply. "Well, as long as you're happy."

Malika nodded again and looked up at Blackwall with a fond smile. "I am. Very happy."

"As am I," Blackwall added when Dorian looked at him inquiringly, smiling fondly at Malika.

Sera stared for a moment. "That's just _weird_. Broody Beard isn't all broody anymore!"

"Didn't you say you _wanted_ to see me smile?" Blackwall asked Sera, his smile turning mischievous now.

After another moment Sera cackled again. "All right, yeah."

"There's still bandits to fight," Malika reminded them. "Come on."

Blackwall moved to walk alongside Malika now. "What did Dorian ask you?"

"He just wanted to confirm if all _three_ of us were together," Malika explained quietly.

He glanced back at the mage, and then addressed Malika, "How would he even _know_?"

"Redcliffe," she told him, a shadow crossing her face. "He was there, too, remember?"

Blackwall nodded, annoyed that he'd forgotten that fact. Malika had yet to tell them any further details about Redcliffe and what she and Dorian had seen there. "It didn't happen, Mal, and it _won't_ happen."

"Thanks, Blackwall." They paused at a door that separated them from the next group of bandits. "Since our secret's out--" she drew his head down for a kiss, swift and soft.

Blackwall touched his forehead to hers. "We've got this."

"Now you're going _sappy_ on us?" Sera asked, sounding disgusted.

A glance at her confirmed that she had an approving smile on her face despite her tone of voice. Dorian gave an exaggerated sigh. "Let's kill the bandits first, and _then_ you two can be sappy all you want."

"Sounds good to me," Malika agreed. "Blackwall?"

Chuckling, he set himself and kicked the door open. They had a keep to clear of bandits.

*

"Oh, no you don't!" Blackwall's shout behind her caught Malika's attention and she turned in time to see him lunging between her and the bandit leader. A scream lodged in her throat when the leader's _huge_ mace hit Blackwall's shield and shattered it.

He stood firm between her and bandit leader, gripping his sword in both hands now. In almost slow motion, she watched the mace break the sword and smash into Blackwall's chest with enough force to send him crashing to the ground. Malika could only scream, "Blackwall!"

"No!" Dimly, Malika heard Sera's voice and was vaguely aware that both she and Dorian were attacking the leader now. She could only stare at Blackwall at her feet, still and pale. Just like Redcliffe. "Glowy! Move!"

Closer, she could hear Dorian cursing. Movement caught her attention and she finally noticed the bandit leader. Despite fireballs from one direction and red-fletched arrows from the other, he lifted his mace up, clearly intending to finish Blackwall off. "No!" She threw herself across his chest so the mace hit her square in the back instead. A flash of bright, white-hot pain overwhelmed her and sent her spiraling into pain-free blackness. She wasn't sure how much later she came to, groaning with pain. "Ow, that _hurts_."

"You shouldn't even be _moving_ after a blow like that," Dorian told her as Sera helped her ease into a sitting position, every back muscle _screaming_ in protest.

Catching her breath once she was sitting, Malika told him, "Dwarves are tough. My back'll be a mess of bruises, but no broken bones."

"This'll help, Glowy." Sera handed her a healing potion while Dorian tipped another into Blackwall's mouth, stroking his throat to ensure he swallowed it.

She downed the potion and shuddered at the bitter aftertaste. "Thanks, Sera."

"Quiet, please," Dorian requested before he downed a lyrium potion with a grimace and began to heal Blackwall, closing his eyes to better focus.

As he worked, Malika held Sera's hand tightly, worried about Blackwall. Eventually, the tense silence must have been too much for Sera, because she asked, "Why'd you freeze like that, Glowy? When Beardy first went down?"

"I--" Malika started, and then stopped, biting her lip. "It reminded me of that future I saw in Redcliffe, with Dorian. I told you that you, Blackwall, Leliana, and Zevran fought to give Dorian the time he needed to cast the spell." Sera nodded, her serious expression very much like what Malika had seen in the future. "You and Blackwall were outside the room, and then they burst in and dragged-- they had-- he was so still-- so pale-- covered in blood."

When she faltered, her throat closing up at the memory, Sera tugged her hand free from Malika's so she could hug her tight. "It didn't happen, Glowy. We're here. We're alive."

Malika clung to Sera, her fingers digging into the chainmail that covered Sera's shoulders. When she finally found her voice, it was thick with unshed tears. "I know all that, but for one brief moment, everyone was dead. For a brief moment, I grieved for you."

"He'll live," Dorian informed them after a short silence where Sera held Malika and stroked her hair. "I don't recommend letting him up until tomorrow, to give his bones and muscles more time to heal."

Malika pulled back from Sera, scrubbing at her face. "Thank you, Dorian. I'm too sore to want to do anything more today."

They moved Blackwall into the keep and Malika sent Sera to Lace Harding with a message for Skyhold. She sat with her back against the wall at the head of the bed, Blackwall's head pillowed in her lap. "If he's going to keep doing this, I'll have to review human anatomy."

"I'll have words with him about doing this," she promised Dorian, combing her fingers through Blackwall's dark hair. "We'd rather have him _with_ us instead of mourning for him."

Dorian nodded, dragging a chair to the side of the bed. "I'm curious: why him? Why Josephine?"

"Well, Josie didn't seem to catch on to my flirting," Malika admitted quietly. She'd been thinking about exactly _that_ herself. "That intrigued me and I kept flirting. As for _him_..." she stared down at his still face, lightly tracing her fingers over his features now. "You know I'm former Carta. That didn't seem to _matter_ to him. He still treated me like a lady, as noble as Josie. How could I _not_ fall for him?"

Dorian nodded thoughtfully. "What kept your attention? I can't imagine that's _all_."

"It isn't," she confirmed, smiling fondly. "Josie, like Blackwall, has never looked down on me for being former Carta. She's very curious about Dwarven culture and has even told _me_ some things _I_ didn't know about my people simply because I'm a surfacer like Varric."

She smiled when Blackwall stirred and clasped her free hand. His voice rusty, Blackwall asked, "And me, my lady?"

"Dwarves prize craftsmanship as well as the ability to fight and protect," she explained, tangling their fingers together. "You've demonstrated both as well as a sly sense of humor that makes me laugh until my sides are sore."

Dorian commented wryly, "And here I thought it was his rugged good looks."

"That goes without saying," Blackwall countered, smiling up at Malika.

She smiled back, kissing the tips of her fingers and pressing them to his lips. As he kissed her fingers in turn, she added, "Of course! An excellent beard is highly regarded amongst dwarves, male or female."

"So Varric would be considered ugly?" Dorian looked curious.

Blackwall, mischief in his eyes, refuted, "No, the chest hair makes up for it."

"Why else would he go around with his shirt open all the time?" Malika giggled, only to stop with a wince. "Stone!"

Dorian leaned forward, concerned, "Mal?"

"My lady?" Blackwall stared up at her.

She gave both of them a reassuring smile. "I'm fine. Laughing too much hurts my back right now, that's all."

"I think we have one more healing potion." Dorian got up and dug through their supplies.

Blackwall watched Malika accept it and drink it down. "What happened to your back?"

"She saved your life, Beardy," Sera volunteered from the doorway.

Lace followed Sera into the room, stopping just inside the door. "If it's all right, Your Worship, I'd like to station a few scouts here to facilitate communication until we've properly garrisoned the keep."

"Yes, of course." Malika nodded, glad that _someone_ had thought of it. "Thank you, Lace."

Saluting, Lace withdrew. Sighing, Malika shifted into a comfortable position and let her exhaustion drag her into restful sleep. _Telling Josie about this is going to be **fun**._


	7. Love Birds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Malika, Josephine, and Blackwall spend time together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prompt for this chapter is 'love birds'.

"Finally," Josephine murmured, skimming the letter in her hand once again. "Inquisitor?"

Malika looked up from her own pile of correspondence. They were in Josephine's office at the moment. Josephine sat at her desk while Malika sat on the couch, her posture unnaturally stiff. Blackwall was stretched out on the couch, his head pillowed against Malika's leg, fast asleep. "Yes, Lady Josephine?"

"I have the time and place of Marquis Wiscotte's party," Josephine informed her with suppressed excitement. "Minister Bellise will be there."

After a moment, the confusion cleared from Malika's face. "Oh, right! She's the last person we need to talk to for the Du Paraquettes to be nobles again."

"Yes, exactly." Josephine nodded, relieved that Malika remembered without prompting. "She holds the entire success of our endeavor in her hands."

On the couch, Blackwall stirred and mumbled, "If she doesn't agree, what else can you do?"

"Let's not think that way," Malika replied, stroking Blackwall's hair with a fond smile. "When do we need to leave in order to make it to this party?"

Josephine had already been figuring that. "We should leave tomorrow morning if we don't want to push our horses too much."

"We'll be ready when you are, my lady," Blackwall told her, carefully pulling himself into a sitting position, cradling his left arm against his chest.

Malika watched him with worry in her eyes. "Are you sure it's a good idea for you to go with us, Blackwall?"

"Would _you_ want to stay behind, Mal?" Josephine asked, helping Blackwall loop the sling over his head so he could rest his arm in it.

Malika shook her head, scooting over to hug Blackwall. "We'd be glad for your company, of course, Blackwall."

"You're just going to a party, my lady," he reminded her, returning the hug with his good arm. "I won't need to fight."

Josephine sat down on his other side. "Please see the healers before we leave. Maybe there's something they can do."

"They've done everything they can already, Josie," Malika reminded her, leaning forward to peer at her around Blackwall.

He leaned over to kiss Josephine's cheek. "Miss Unam has done all she can, my lady. We just need to be patient."

"Yes, of course." Josephine nodded, kissing Blackwall's cheek in return. She'd been very worried when they received Malika's report from Crestwood about their capture of Caer Bronach and the injuries she and Blackwall had received in the process. Only an addendum from Lace Harding had kept Josephine from riding out with the forces they'd sent to hold the keep:

_Sister Nightingale-_

_I saw the Inquisitor and Ser Blackwall myself. They were both awake and coherent. A full recovery seems likely, though both are moving slowly and carefully for now._

_Scout Harding_

Josephine blinked when she felt Blackwall clasp her hand. Looking down, she saw that he'd slipped his arm out of the sling. "Blackwall, your arm--"

"You weren't responding, Josie," Malika explained from where she now perched on the arm of the couch beside Josephine.

Carefully squeezing her hand, Blackwall slid his arm back into the sling. "What were you thinking about, my lady?"

"I was just remembering how worried I was when I heard you'd both been hurt," she explained in a low voice, staring down at her hands.

Malika leaned over to hug her around her shoulders. After only a moment or two, she straightened up with a slight hitch to her breathing. "Ooh, ow. Can't do that yet."

"Stop risking your recoveries for me," Josephine protested, though she was secretly touched by their affection.

Blackwall chuckled as Malika slid down to the floor and climbed up into Josephine's lap. "Better, my lady Mal?"

"Better." She curled up against Josephine.

Smiling fondly, Josephine wrapped her arms around Malika and held her close. "Better."

*

"This isn't working," Josephine remarked as Blackwall let himself into the Inquisitor's quarters after a visit with the healers.

As he climbed the stairs, he heard Malika say, "One more try, Josie. Please?"

"What are you ladies up to?" Blackwall asked, leaning on the railing by the stairs, taking in the scene before him.

The furniture had been pushed towards the walls to make a large, clear space in the middle of the room. His two ladies stood in the middle of the cleared space and turned towards him. "Oh, Blackwall. How long have you been there?"

"To answer your question: we're practicing dancing," Malika explained, reaching up for Josephine's hand. "It's not going well because Josephine isn't used to leading."

Nodding, Blackwall walked over and greeted each of them with sweet, soft kisses. "To answer _your_ question, Lady Josie, I was only there for a moment or two." Looking between them, he asked, "You're practicing for the ball, yes?"

"Yes, we are," Josephine confirmed with a nod. "Mal wants to know all the dances, both leading and following."

Still holding Josephine's hand, Malika brought it up to kiss the back. "We've just run into a little snag because Josie's never really led."

"I can help with that." Blackwall bowed and offered his hand to Malika, "May I have this dance, my lady Mal?"

Both women stared at his extended hand. Josephine asked, "You know Orlesian dances?"

"From your life before the Wardens?" Malika placed her hand in his.

Nodding, he guided her into the proper starting position. "Yes, another life entirely."

"Will you tell us about it?" Josephine asked as Blackwall began to guide Malika through the dance steps.

It was clear that she knew the _order_ of the steps, but not _how_ to do them. Backwards, anyway. "Did you have a younger sister perhaps?"

"Yes, though I haven't heard from her in years." He felt safe admitting that much. "We lost touch after I joined the Wardens."

Josephine had walked over to perch on the bed when Blackwall and Malika began to dance. She now offered, "We could try to track your sister down for you. Or at least find out what happened to her."

"I know _I'd_ like to know if anything had happened to Shayla," Malika added, referring _her_ younger sister.

Touched by their offer, he said, "There are more important matters that require the Inquisition's resources than finding my sister."

"It wouldn't be a _waste_ , Blackwall," Josephine countered, sounding earnest.

Malika, following his lead more easily now, watched him thoughtfully for a few moments. "Perhaps we should set the question of looking for your sister aside for now."

"Yes, please." He was relieved that Malika was willing to drop the idea for the moment.

Josephine, on the other hand, wasn't ready to let it go yet. "She's your _sister_."

"I'm touched beyond belief that you want to find my sister, my lady Josie," Blackwall had guided the dance over towards the bed and now stopped so he could sit beside Josephine and gather her into a hug. "I'm just not _ready_ to find her right now."

As Josephine curled into Blackwall and hugged him back, Malika climbed onto the bed on Josephine's other side. "It's _his_ choice, Josie."

"Very well." Josephine sighed heavily. "If that's your wish--"

Blackwall kissed her forehead. "It is."

"You know, of course, that you need only ask and we'll find your sister." Malika rested her hand on Josephine's back, meeting Blackwall's gaze steadily.

Josephine nodded, sitting back to look up at him. "Yes, of course."

"You two will be the first to know should I change my mind," he assured them.

The only way he could see _that_ happening was if the truth about his past came out somehow. He honestly wasn't sure if or when that would happen. The one time he'd _tried_ to tell Malika the truth, he'd lost his nerve. Now, he was afraid of Malika and Josephine learning the truth. He didn't want to know what they would think or say or do if they _did_ learn the truth. _I'll just enjoy this time I have with them, how ever long it will be._

*

"There are at least a dozen young lords and ladies hoping for some time with the hero of the night," Blackwall informed Malika as he and Josephine joined her after the ball.

Malika barely managed a smile for them. "Is everything all right, Mal? You look troubled."

"I wish I could have done something to save Gaspard," she confided in a low voice, scrubbing her eyes. "He didn't need to die."

Blackwall chuckled wryly. "You never give up on people, do you? No matter how lost they are."

"It was regrettable," Josephine added, resting one hand on Malika's back. "But he made his choice when he declared his war. His death was his own doing, not yours."

Malika pressed the heels of her palms against her eyes, trying to stop the burning sensation of unshed tears. "I wish--"

"We know, my lady." Blackwall slipped an arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head.

Josephine did the same on her other side. "You can't save everyone."

"I suppose not." Malika looked up at them, both her lovers on either side of her. "I wish I could dance with you both at the same time."

After a moment of staring, Blackwall chuckled. "A little greedy, aren't you, my lady?"

"She's been through a lot tonight," Josephine reminded him. Looking down at Malika, she continued, "We _could_ all dance together, if you don't mind not following any actual dance steps."

Malika smiled, sliding her arms around their waists. "I just want to stay close to you two right now."

"I know how you feel," Blackwall replied with a fond smile.

They moved away from the railing towards the middle of the balcony. Then Blackwall and Josephine moved towards each other so he could slide his free arm around Josephine's shoulders and she could wrap hers around his waist. "Is this fine, Mal?"

"It's perfect, Josie," Malika assured her, liking the way this kept the three of them very close to each other.

Slight pressure guided them into a slow revolving circle as they held each other close. "Is your sister always like that, my lady Josie?"

"She is, yes." Josephine sighed heavily, resting her head on his shoulder.

Malika laughed, suddenly remembering what Yvette had asked when Josephine introduced them to each other. "Yvette wanted to know if we were going to elope and move--"

"I get the picture." Blackwall chuckled, a deep rumble that vibrated in his chest.

Josephine groaned this time. "I love my family, but they drive me crazy at times."

"I _quite_ understand, Josie." Malika pressed her cheek against Josephine's side for a moment. "Shayla, at least, is more sensible than Yvette."

His voice thoughtful, Blackwall offered, "I think it's the goal of _all_ younger siblings to drive their elder siblings crazy."

"I think you're right, Blackwall," Josephine replied, sounding aggravated. "My brothers certainly do _their_ part in driving me crazy."

Malika shook her head slightly. "I only have Shayla."

"And I just have my sister," Blackwall sounded almost apologetic.

Josephine laughed softly. "I'm just lucky, I guess."

"Of course you are." Malika gently brought them to a stop. "You have _us_ , after all."

Blackwall smiled fondly at them. "Indeed, my ladies."

"I am _very_ glad and grateful to have you two in my life." Josephine's eyes were suspiciously moist in the mage lights.

Grinning, Malika drew her down for a warm, tender kiss. She watched as Blackwall kissed Josephine, too, one of his hands resting against her neck. Malika was ready and waiting when he turned to kiss her as well. As they held each other in comfortable silence, Malika wished they were back at Skyhold already. She missed having either of her lovers in bed with her. She didn't sleep well alone anymore.


	8. Patching Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Josephine's betrothal makes a lot of things clear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prompt for this chapter was 'patching up'.

" _There_ you are!" Josephine was both relieved and upset when Blackwall and Malika entered her office. "I've been looking all over for you two. I've just received the most terrible news."

Malika closed the distance between them, looking worried as she took Josephine's hands in hers. "What is it? What's wrong, Josie?"

"Is someone hurt?" Blackwall followed Malika over, looking just as worried.

Josephine looked between them, agonized. "I'm engaged." Normally, such news was more than welcome. Now, though, it would divide her from the man and woman she only now realized were the ones she wanted to spend the rest of her life with.

"When did this happen?" Malika asked, blue eyes wide with shock. Blackwall seemed to be speechless, just staring at her.

Giving a sigh of frustration, Josephine tugged her hands free and wrapped her arms across her waist, pacing away from Malika and Blackwall. "For the past year, my mother and father have searched Antiva for a match for me." She turned back to see that both her lovers had followed her, listening intently. "They had no idea that we had grown so... close." Josephine bit back the word 'love'. It was not the right time to bring it up. "Today, I received a letter declaring they've betrothed me to Lord Adorno Ciel Otranto of Antiva." She looked at each of them sadly. "I must deal with this, but until then, we cannot be seen in a compromising situation. I'm so sorry."

"Are you saying we should act like _nothing_ has happened between us?" Malika asked, looking both angry and wounded.

Blackwall rested a hand on Malika's shoulder. "Is there anything _we_ can do?"

"No! Not at all!" Josephine shook her head, longing to take their hands once again. "But it is not right that we carry on while I am betrothed. I _must_ break off the match first."

Malika nodded, looking calmer. After a moment's thought, she asked, "I assume your parents have political alliances resting on this engagement?"

"Politics, my lady?" Blackwall asked, staring down at Malika in surprise.

Josephine sighed again, still very upset that her parents had put her in this position, albeit unknowingly. "For once, that is something quite far from my mind. This is _not_ what I wanted to happen! I barely remember Lord Otranto!" Still upset, she turned and walked to her desk. "I must see to this. And my other duties." Shrugging with frustration, she muttered, "If I can keep my mind on them today at all!"

"You never did answer Blackwall's question." Malika followed her to the desk, thankfully staying on the other side. Blackwall remained beside the couch, his hands folded behind his back. "Is there anything we can do to help?"

Blackwall chuckled humorlessly. "I doubt there is, Mal."

"He is Antivan. The only acceptable thing to do would be to challenge him to a duel for my favor," Josephine gave them a helpless look. She was well aware that Malika preferred to keep her distance from her enemies, presumably because she was better with a bow and arrows than a sword or daggers. Blackwall had the skill, certainly, but he wasn't noble-born.

Looking thoughtful, Malika commented, "Every family has scandals. Maybe Leliana or I can find something to persuade Otranto to give up the match."

"That might not be a good idea, Mal." Blackwall finally joined Malika by Josephine's desk.

Josephine shook her head quickly. There was no need to drag the Inquisition into her personal business! "Please, Mal, no! If Otranto found out, he'd challenge _you_ to a duel." She sighed softly, resigned to explaining things. "The traditional form of dueling among Antivan nobles isn't usually fatal, but there's always a chance of harm." When she looked up to meet Malika's eyes, she let some of her worry for her safety show. "I hardly wish to see you skewered on a swordpoint for the sake of my honor." She glanced at Blackwall. "Either of you."

"If I dueled this Lord Otranto, I could force him to give up his betrothal with you?" Malika asked, tapping her chin thoughtfully.

Blackwall rested his hand on her shoulder. "Mal..."

"But you could be hurt!" Josephine objected, touched that Malika refused to drop the idea, but worried about her safety if she pursued it. Blackwall, at least, seemed to be on Josephine's side. "Dueling is a _very_ precise sport. Men and women spend years perfecting their skills with a rapier." She blinked back the sting of tears. "I couldn't _bear_ to think of my family putting you in any further danger. Again."

Malika began to pace, her hands clasped behind her back. "What can you tell us about Lord Otranto?"

"What sort of man is he?" Blackwall added, turning so he could see both women.

Josephine found the letter from her mother amongst the papers on her desk. "His family runs several shipping companies in Antiva that do very well. Of the man's temper and disposition and habits? I know nothing." Shaking her head, she corrected herself, "Well, Mother claims he enjoys sailing and dueling, but what Antivan lord doesn't?"

"You don't favor this marriage, Josie, do you?" Malika stopped in her tracks to ask the question, as if it'd only just occurred to her.

Blackwall walked over to hug Malika. "Of course not. She wouldn't be this upset about it if she _did_ favor it."

"Ser Blackwall is quite right." Josephine clasped her hands tightly in her lap to resist the impulse to reach out for her lovers and reassure them when they winced at her use of 'Ser'. She was betrothed now and couldn't risk a scandal. "If I hadn't met either of you, perhaps I'd have been amenable, but honestly. Neither of you need to worry."

Moving towards the desk, Malika queried, "Does Antiva law force you to marry? Can't you break off the betrothal?"

"Laws are not that simple, Mal." Blackwall sighed and pushed his fingers through his hair.

Josephine nodded her agreement. "In theory, I very easily could. In reality, if I reject Lord Otranto without proper niceties, it will scar my family's name. Perhaps ignite a feud." Sadly, she admitted, "Disentangling myself from the engagement will take months. Or years."

"While you're worried about your family, what happens to the three of us?" Malika paced to peer out the window, her lips pressed together.

Blackwall walked over to join Malika, resting his hands on her shoulders, his voice quiet. "Mal?"

"I _cannot_ be with either of you until the question of this engagement is settled." She hated to say as much, but her family's reputation was very important to her efforts to rebuild their trading fleet. Still, she needed to reassure them as best she could. "As... as much as I might wish to. Oh, why did this become so dreadfully _complicated_?"

Nodding, Malika reached up to squeeze Blackwall's hands before walking over and resting her hand on the desk, near where Josephine's rested. "I fear I've taken up too much of your time, Lady Montilyet. Until later."

"Until then, Inquisitor." Josephine replied, just barely brushing her fingers against Malika's. Maker, it _hurt_ to hear her title from Malika.

Returning the brush of fingers, Malika turned and left Josephine's office. Blackwall walked over and bent to kiss Josephine's hand. Then, without a word, he followed Malika from the room, his back ramrod straight. Alone for the moment, Josephine buried her face in her hands. _Why did this have to happen **now**?_

*

Blackwall followed Malika as she walked boldly through the marketplace in Val Royeaux. They had agreed that, while Blackwall was better with a sword, Malika should challenge Otranto for Josephine's hand because she was the Inquisitor and would be considered an appropriate opponent for an Antivan lord. A handsome Antivan man in the prime of life accompanied by a dark-skinned elven man with white-blond hair and a tattoo down the side of his face stopped them. "Inquisitor Cadash? I am Lord Otranto of Antiva, rightfully betrothed of Lady Josephine Montilyet." Blackwall clasped his hands tightly behind his back as Otranto retrieved the rapiers from the elf. "Songs of your exploits have spread to my city, Inquisitor. It's humbling to make your acquaintance." He tossed one to Malika, who caught it easily with one hand. She took a few experimental swings with it, testing the weight and balance like Blackwall had shown her. He and the elf quickly backed up as Otranto began to circle Malika, who settled into a ready stance. Otranto pointed his blade at her. "It is a pity it will not last longer."

"Are we going to duel?" Malika asked, sounding bored even as she turned in place to keep Otranto in front of her. "Or just chat?"

"Before we duel, I trust you find the weapon to your satisfaction?" Otranto asked, still circling.

Malika didn't take her eyes off her opponent. "I trust you've made this a fair fight, Lord Otranto."

"Upon my honor," he assured her, readying his blade with a flourish of his wrist that would have left him with a stump in a proper battle. "Shall we begin?"

They began to duel, the sound of swords clanging rang out across the marketplace. Blackwall kept his hands tightly clasped behind his back once more as Malika constantly gave ground to Otranto, parrying his attacks, but making none of her own. Beside him, the elf had moved around the cleared area and said, "She is an archer, no?"

"What makes you think that?" Blackwall asked, glancing at the elf before returning his attention to the duel.

A chuckle. "She is focusing more on keeping Lord Otranto at bay than actually fighting him. It is a hard habit to break."

"An admirable start, Inquisitor," Otranto complimented her before Blackwall could respond. He _had_ noticed that while he and Malika practiced. They had worked with that, though, and developed a strategy to account for it. After a few more exchanges where neither made it past the other's guard, he added, "And I was worried a civilized weapon might puzzle you, Lady Cadash!"

Both became more aggressive, attacking and parrying with clear intent. "She's not much for talking, is she?"

"It's more she prefers not to rise to Lord Otranto's bait," Blackwall retorted calmly.

Pausing in his flurry of attacks, Otranto remarked, "I'm glad Lady Montilyet isn't here, exquisite as I've heard her appearance to be." Another flurry of attacks and they closed with each other, glaring over their locked blades mere feet from Blackwall. "Cutting you down in front of Josephine would've given a poor first impression of House Otranto to my bride."

"Strange," Malika finally replied, showing no sign of exertion beyond the sweat trickling down her temple and slightly quickened breathing. "I would think the Otrantos already have enough blood on their hands after cheating the Terrazas."

The bored amusement on Otranto's face disappeared, replaced by fury as he hissed, "Who told you--" and flung her back from him. "You _dare_ to bring up that slander here?"

"Hmmm. Clever," the elf remarked thoughtfully. "Leliana's work, finding that out, I take it?"

Blackwall glanced at the other man in surprise. "How do you--"

"I have my ways." The elf offered him a sly smile and a wink. "Watch the duel, Ser Blackwall."

Angry now, Otranto's attacks were wild and careless, easily batted aside by Malika, who remained calm and unruffled. Finally, she took advantage of an opening and managed to slice the shoulder of his sword arm, drawing blood. Glaring, he snarled, "Inquisitor, I will personally--"

" _Stop!_ " Josephine's voice rang through the marketplace.

Blackwall stifled a groan. "This was supposed to finish _before_ she showed up."

"Alas, plans rarely survive contact with an enemy or a friend." The elf tucked an envelope into Blackwall's belt. "Please give this to Leliana for me."

Before Blackwall could reply, he slipped away. Josephine pushed between two of the spectators and took a moment to survey the scene. Malika lit up and Blackwall's heart ached at the way her entire demeanor changed. He wondered if she did the same when she saw _him_. "Josephine!"

She stalked towards Malika, right past Otranto, who tried to introduce himself: "Lady Montilyet! What a pleasure to--"

"What are you _doing_?" Josephine completely ignored Otranto, who turned to watch with the rest as she asked her question.

"If I duel Otranto to stop your betrothal, any dishonor falls on me--not your family," Malika explained in a rush, looking earnest now.

Josephine shook her head, looking far more agitated and upset than Blackwall had ever seen before except in private. "I would've found a way around it! The Inquisition needs you! _I_ need you!" Did that mean... "Yet you threw yourself into danger!"

"Not like she hasn't before," Blackwall muttered to himself, stepping forward to join Malika. She smiled up at him.

Still upset, Josephine turned to face them, nodding slightly to acknowledge Blackwall's presence. She still demanded, "Why do this? Why risk everything we've built? Why risk your _life_?"

"Because I love you!" The words seemed to burst out of Malika and Blackwall bit the inside of his cheek to hide a smile. He'd suspected it for some time, but it was lovely to hear.

Josephine stared at Malika, stunned out of her anger. "You... you do?"

"She does?" Otranto echoed, not that anyone seemed to be paying attention to him.

Looking as stunned as Josephine, Malika tossed the rapier to the ground. "I wasn't quite sure until I said it, but... yes, yes, I love you."

"I love you, too." A smile spread across Josephine's face, lighting it up and taking Blackwall's breath away.

Blackwall took a few steps back as Josephine ran forward and Malika caught her in her arms, spinning her in a circle before lowering her to the ground so they could kiss, sweet and tender, and then hug each other close. He was happy for them both, but Maker how he wished he could join them! _Later, when we're not standing in the middle of a crowded marketplace._  
  
"Lady Cadash." Lord Otranto stepped forward, drawing their attention to him. "Well-fought."

Looking worried, Josephine started, "Lord Otranto--"

"I'd assumed your liaison with the Inquisitor was an affair of passion or convenience, Lady Montilyet," he told her, smiling and gracious in defeat as he sheathed the sword. "But I'm not enough of a fool to stand in the way of true affection." Josephine and Malika exchanged delighted smiles as he continued, "The Otrantos regretfully withdraw the terms of our betrothal."

Josephine's voice was full of happiness as she told him, "Thank you."

"Do not thank me." He bowed respectfully. "I know when I am outmatched." Stooping to pick up the rapier Malika had tossed aside, he left the marketplace.

As the crowd dispersed, Josephine turned back to Malika, who told her, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about arranging the duel."

"Given that you are in one piece, body and dignity, I forgive you," Josephine told her playfully. "Just do kiss me again."

Malika did just that and Blackwall moved closer once they finished. "My ladies."

"Oh, Blackwall." Josephine smiled and hugged him. As she did, she whispered, "I love _you_ , too, you know."

His heart leapt in his chest. "Perhaps we should discuss this in private."

"Privacy sounds really good right now," Malika agreed cheerfully. "We have rooms waiting for us nearby."

Josephine nodded and they headed towards the inn they'd stayed at before where they'd begun their relationship.

*

Feeling quite refreshed after her bath, Malika tucked one towel around herself and dried her hair with another one as she left the bathing room off the bedroom she was sharing with Josephine. They'd decided to stay at the same inn they'd used before in Val Royeaux. "Well, that's a lovely sight."

"Hello, Blackwall." Smiling brightly, Malika crossed to where he now sat on the couch with Josephine and kissed him, warm and hungry. When they parted, she cupped his face between her hands, holding his gaze with hers. "I love _you_ , too. Not just Josie. _Both_ of you."

He gazed back at her for a moment, and then a smile slowly spread across his face. He brought his hands up to cover her hands with his so he could press kisses to both her palms. "And I love _you_ , Mal." Sitting up, he leaned over to kiss Josephine's cheek. "And you, too, Josie. You are both my ladies and I would love nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with you both."

" _Thank_ you, Blackwall." Josephine flung her arms around Blackwall, hugging him tight.

Laughing, he hugged her back. Amused, Malika walked over to the bed where she'd laid out her clean clothes. "It's about time, Blackwall."

"For what?" Blackwall asked, sounding breathless, as Malika dressed.

Sounding just as breathless, Josephine said, "You said _just_ Josie. You didn't say lady first."

"We don't mind you calling us 'my lady', but sometimes it's nice to hear just our names," Malika added, walking over to join them, brush in hand.

As she dragged a footstool over in front of Josephine and perched on it, Blackwall explained, "It just didn't feel quite right to _not_ say 'my lady' first."

"You've said _just_ Mal's name before," Josephine pointed out, taking the brush and beginning to run it through Malika's hair, which had grown from chin-length to just below her shoulders. "But not _just_ mine."

Malika fidgeted with the hem of her shirt. "We're not complaining, mind. It's just strange that you've persisted."

"I'm sure you both noticed that you two are the only women I've called _my_ ladies," Blackwall reminded them, sounding quite pleased with himself. "There's a reason for that."

Josephine finished pulling Malika's hair back into a ponytail and they turned to look at him. "Wait-- it was your way of saying 'my love'?"

"From the start?" Malika added, turning to look at him with wide eyes.

Blackwall had a small, pleased smile on his face as he looked from one to the other. "Yes, pretty much."

"Oh!" Josephine practically pounced on Blackwall, knocking him flat on his back. She kissed him soundly.

Malika stepped from the footstool to the couch. When Josephine released Blackwall, Malika took her place, kissing him soundly. "Somehow, I love you even more."

"I'm flattered, my ladies." He looked from Malika to Josephine, the glint in his eyes making the honorific even more of an endearment.

They kissed him at the same time, something they'd never attempted before. Malika hadn't thought three people _could_ kiss each other all at once. Apparently, she hadn't been creative enough. It _was_ possible, if a little awkward and messy. That was relationships, though. Drawing back for a moment to catch her breath, Malika was amused to realize that Josephine had raised her right foot in the air so her toes pointed at the ceiling. She moved down to tug Blackwall's boots off for him. "Mal?"

"Do you _really_ think we're going anywhere after we've all admitted that we love each other?" Malika asked Josephine with raised eyebrows.

Blackwall chuckled and tugged at the sash wrapped around Josephine's waist. "She makes a good point, Josie."

"Yes, she does." Josephine sat up so Blackwall could remove her sash.

They slowly moved to the bed, undressing each other as they went. By the time they tumbled onto the bed together, they were all naked. Afterwards, they lay tangled with each other and the covers, Josephine and Malika on either side of Blackwall. Malika stretched, feeling pleasantly sore, and kissed Blackwall's chest, right over his heart. "When did you know you loved us, Blackwall?"

"I'm not sure." He idly smoothed his hand down her back. "Perhaps after Haven, when I faced the possibility of losing both of you to hypothermia."

Malika nodded, pressing closer to him. She'd heard later that Josephine had almost frozen to death as well, though she hadn't come as near to it as Malika herself. Josephine stretched up to kiss Blackwall's cheek, and then peered at Malika across his chest. "What about you, Mal?"

"I knew I felt more than idle attraction after Redcliffe." She let out a shuddering breath at the memory of Josephine dying in her arms and Blackwall sacrificing himself for her and Dorian. "But love itself... I'd say after the assassin from the House of Repose attacked you. Both of you were in danger from her daggers. That's part of why I punched her out, because she nearly took you both from me."

Blackwall kissed the top of her head and Josephine sat up to lean across him and kiss Malika's forehead. Before Josephine could lay back down, Blackwall asked, "Your turn, Josephine. When did you know?"

"When I received the news from Mother about my betrothal," Josephine admitted quietly. "Knowing I would have to stay away from you both until I could disentangle myself from the betrothal, I realized that I would much rather spend the rest of my life with _you two_ instead of Lord Otranto."

Smiling tenderly, Josephine kissed each of them in turn before laying back down with her head on Blackwall's shoulder. Malika sighed deeply and contentedly. "Love you both. So much."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, the elf with Otranto was Zevran.


	9. Bee (Mine)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blackwall's past threatens his relationship with Josephine and Malika.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prompt for this chapter is 'Bee (Mine)'.
> 
> There are spoilers for a big plot twist regarding Blackwall, but why would you be reading this if you didn't know it already?

Josephine followed Malika into the Val Royeaux prison, holding her hand tightly as much for her own comfort as Malika's. She was still reeling from the revelation that Warden Blackwall-- their _lover_ , wasn't Blackwall after all, but a wanted criminal. Malika came to a stop, staring at one of the cells. Following her gaze, Josephine could see Rainier sitting on the wooden shelf that served as a bed. He sat with his shoulders slumped, staring down at the ground. After a long moment of silence, he spoke, "I didn't take Blackwall's life. I traded his death." Malika moved closer to the cell, but Josephine remained where she was, wrapping her arms around her waist. "He wanted me for the Wardens, but there was an ambush. Darkspawn. He was killed. I took his name to stop the world from losing a good man." He finally looked up at Malika, and then past her to Josephine. "But a good man, the man _he_ was wouldn't have let another die in his place."

"In that Redcliffe I visited with Dorian, you said there was so much you wanted to tell me." Josephine moved closer, resting a hand on Malika's shoulder. "I suppose this is what your other self meant."

Rainier shrugged. "Suppose so." He gazed at them almost hungrily, as if he didn't expect to see them again. "I never meant to lie to you, either of you, and when I did, I couldn't take it back. You weren't supposed to find me. You were just supposed to think I was gone. I didn't want you to see me like this."

"Did you _really_ think we wouldn't look for you?" Josephine demanded, hurt that he would think so little of their love for him.

Malika slammed her hands onto the bars, snapping out her words, "You're _ours_ , whether you're Warden Blackwall or Thom Rainier. Did you _really_ think we would let you go so easily?" Her anger faded, replaced by sadness. "Especially _you_."

"You have each other," Thom reminded them, looking back and forth between them.

Both Josephine and Malika shook their heads sharply. "It's not the same. Thom." The name sounded strange on her tongue. "Like Mal said, you are _ours_."

"Don't you understand?" Thom finally stood up, approaching the bars so mere centimeters separated them. "I gave the order to kill Lord Callier, his entourage, and I lied to my men about what they were doing! When it came to light, I _ran_." His eyes glittered with anger and self-loathing. "Those men, _my_ men, paid for my treason while I was pretending to be a better man." He bowed his head, slowly sinking to his knees. " _This_ is what I am! A murderer, a traitor... a monster. Wouldn't _you_ be happier thinking I was a noble man, a Grey Warden, instead of _this_?" He rested his forehead against the bars, defeated. "I would've saved you both the pain of learning that all you knew about me was a lie. That you loved a lie."

After a short silence, Malika crouched down to tell him quietly, "There's truth to what we have." He flinched when she covered his hand with hers on the bar. "I lost you once before and I _refuse_ to lose you again, Thom Rainier."

"You are a good man, Thom," Josephine added, bending to cover both of their hands with hers. "We're not giving you up."

He looked up in surprise, grey eyes wide. After a few moments, he must have realized what they meant and said, "I-- what-- you _can't_."

"You're still _ours_." That said, Malika leaned forward and kissed him through the bars, hard and hungry.

When she finished, she moved so Josephine could do the same. Then they turned and stalked up the stairs. Cullen was waiting for them with Leliana's report. After a brief discussion, Malika looked up at Josephine. "Josie?"

"He's ours, Mal," she reminded her lover.

Malika nodded. "Do what you can to arrange for him to be transferred to the Inquisition."

"With your permission, Inquisitor, I'd like to station a few of our soldiers here to ensure no one tries to take matters into their own hands," Cullen requested, his expression sympathetic as he looked at them.

Josephine winced at the thought and nodded. "Callier's death caused quite an uproar and you saw the crowd's reaction when Thom revealed the truth."

"Yes, station as many soldiers as necessary," Malika told Cullen.

Cullen saluted briskly. "Yes, Inquisitor."

"Come, Mal." Josephine held tight to Malika's hand as she led her from the prison to the inn that had become their usual choice in Val Royeaux. Once in their rooms, she led Malika to the couch and sat down, letting the dwarf curl up in her lap.

Malika tucked her head under Josephine's chin, playing with Josephine's chain of office. Tucked under her blouse, she wore a locket that Malika had given her just before Adamant. It held a lock of Malika's hair twined with a lock of Rainier's. In return, she'd given both Malika and then-Blackwall lengths of gold cloth that they tied around their left arms. "I didn't think it was possible to hate yourself that much."

"No wonder he's always considered himself unworthy of either of us." Josephine murmured, kissing Malika's forehead.

Her lover sighed. "And didn't want us to find his sister. If he even _has_ a sister."

"What do we do about him, my love?" Josephine asked, aware that this would be painful regardless of _when_ she brought it up. "I know, have him released to the Inquisition. What about after that? Assuming I'm successful, will you judge him?"

Malika pressed her face into Josephine's neck. "Yes. Whatever his reasons for killing Callier and his family, he repented of it long ago and he's done so _much_ for the Inquisition."

"That's not _quite_ what I meant by my question." Josephine rubbed her back gently. "What about _us_ , my love? Will we welcome him back into our bed?"

The dwarf shook in her arms, her voice a hoarse whisper, "I... don't know. I still love him. I don't think I can _stop_ loving him, but I don't know if I can trust him."

"I don't know, either," Josephine admitted, blinking back the tears that stung her eyes. "I-- I think we should give him a chance to earn our trust again at least. We've been through too much together to let this come between us."

Malika nodded, clinging tightly to Josephine. "I agree. We'll give him a second chance."

"Very well. I will do my utmost to have him released to us," Josephine assured her, voice shaking a little. "You have my word."

Her love shifted back and stretched up so she could kiss Josephine. "Thank you, Josie."

"You're welcome, Mal." Josephine kissed her back, sweet and soft.

They just sat and held each other for a long time.

*

"For judgment this day," Josephine began, her voice shaking just a little. Thom hadn't seen either her or Malika since the day he saved Mornay from execution. Both were dressed in their finest clothes, not a hair out of place. It made Thom's heart ache to see them so remote and cold towards him. He'd brought it on himself, though. He had no one else to blame for it. "I must present Captain Thom Ranier, formerly known to us as Warden Blackwall. His crimes… well, you are aware of his crimes." He was absurdly grateful that Josephine didn't repeat the account of his crimes. He didn't want to hear her speak of them in her lovely voice. "It was no small expense to bring him here, but the decision of what to do with him is now yours."

He barely dared to look up at Malika once he stood before the throne. She perched on it, the picture of poised elegance and her face-- To anyone who didn't know her well, they'd have seen calm composure, learned from Josephine and Vivienne. Thom, however, saw the slight tremor of tension in her hands as they rested on the arms of the throne, noticed that her jaw was just a little tight. She didn't want to do this, but he'd given her no other options. He knew his fate wasn't death. He wouldn't be here if it was. After a short silence, Malika said, "I didn't think this would be easy, but it's harder than I thought."

"Another thing to regret." He stared down at the floor, because if he looked anywhere else, he saw either the rest of the inner circle, or Josephine, or a few Orlesian soldiers who only wanted him dead. "What did you have to do to release me?"

Malika answered the question with a shrug of her shoulders. "Josephine called in a few favors. There are enough people out there who owe the Inquisition."

"And what happens to the reputation Lady Josephine has so carefully cultivated?" Thom wondered, aloud. "The world will learn how you've used your influence. They'll know the Inquisition is corrupt."

She gave him a hard look, blue eyes flashing with anger. "I wish there'd been another way, but my options were limited."

"You could have left me there!" he practically shouted. He'd done everything he could to protect the Inquisition's reputation, to avoid undoing all of Josephine's hard work, and it'd all been for nothing. "I accepted my punishment. I was ready for all this to end. Why would you stop it? What becomes of me now?"

Malika's answer with simple and surprising: "You have your freedom."

"It cannot be as simple as that." He shook his head, unable to believe that she would set him free after all he'd put both her and Josephine through.

Malika shook her head, her voice steady, but her hands tightening just a little more on the arms of the throne. "It isn't. You're free to atone as the man you are. Not the traitor you thought you were or the Warden you pretended to be."

"The man I am? I barely know him. But he-- I have a lot to make up for." Thom could hardly imagine a life where he could make decisions solely based on whether he wanted to do them and not because he thought he should. He closed eyes and bowed his head for a moment, recalling the one decision he'd made that had been impulsive and not preceded by 'Blackwall would do this, so I should' in the last few years. That decided, he looked back up at Malika. "If my future is mine, then I pledge it to the Inquisition. My sword is yours."

A very small smile tilted up the corners of Malika's mouth. "Then take your post, Thom Rainier." 

"Thank you, Inquisitor." Thom bit back his usual form of endearment. They had more to discuss, but not here in front of everyone.

As one of the guards unlocked the chains around his wrists and ankles, Malika stood up from the throne. When he stood up straight, they were eye-to-eye for once and hers searched his for a long moment before she wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tight. He could see Josephine waiting nearby, smiling faintly. Closing his eyes, he hugged Malika back, breathing in the scent of stone and metal that was uniquely her. "Mal--"

"I lost you once before," she whispered harshly in his ear. "I refuse to lose you again, whatever your name is. You're mine."

He swallowed hard at the emotion in her voice. Maker, he didn't deserve any of this. "I will do everything I can to prove myself worthy of the faith you have in me."

"You did that a long time ago," Malika whispered, easing back and cupping his face between her small, strong hands, blue eyes boring into gray. "You've just been too busy punishing yourself to see it."

Thom slowly nodded, blinking back the sting of tears. Josephine joined them then and Malika stepped back. Much to his surprise, she hugged him tightly. As he hugged her back, she whispered, "You are mine, Thom. Regardless of your past."

"I-- thank you, Josie." He could feel tears trickling down into his beard, honored that they still cared about him.

Once Josephine stepped back, Malika moved forward to take her hand. Keeping her voice low, she told him, "You've probably guessed as much, but you are barred from my quarters for the present time, Thom. If you wish to speak with either or both of us in private, you must request it ahead of time and we will make arrangements."

"You've broken our trust," Josephine explained in an equally-low voice. "We're giving you a chance to earn it back."

Thom nodded, his heart aching, but he understood very well. He was a lucky bastard to have a second chance at all. "I thank you both for this second chance. Both at life and earning your trust."

"Good." Both women nodded to him, and then turned to head to the war room.

When the door shut behind them, Sera approached and punched his arm. "That's for upsetting Glowy like you did, Beardy."

"It's good to see you, too, Sera," he told her, absently rubbing his arm. She hadn't hit him hard, but it was the principle of the thing.

"Did they let you bathe at all in prison?" Dorian demanded from his other side, wrinkling his nose. "Or here?"

Thom shrugged. "Not at all in Val Royeaux and just a sponge bath here."

"Right, we're fixing that." Dorian took Thom's arm and started leading him away. "Sera, you're not needed, unless you _want_ to see him naked?"

She wrinkled her nose at the thought and a laugh escaped Thom, soft and rusty. "Ew, no. Come by the tavern later, Broody Beard. I'm not done with you."

"See you later," Thom told her, letting Dorian lead him away.

*

"You wished to see me, Ladies?" Thom asked politely when he entered the private room at the Herald's Rest. Malika and Josephine sat together at one of the tables, nursing drinks as they waited for Thom to arrive.

Sitting up straight, Malika gestured to the chair opposite them. "Yes, we did. Please have a seat."

"We have some things to discuss," Josephine explained as Thom sat down in the chair, clasping his hands in his lap.

Nodding, Thom looked from one to the other, a hint of longing in his eyes. It'd been a week since Malika had judged him and they'd only spent time together when others were around. This had limited what they could talk about. "Yes, of course. What do you wish to talk about?"

"How much of what you've told us have been lies and how much was the truth?" Malika asked, preferring to be direct and forthright. Especially because this question was the one that had been on her mind the most.

Josephine clasped Malika's hand. The lying itself bothered Josephine more than Malika, who'd done her share of fudging the truth as former Carta. Her voice quiet, Josephine explained, "We don't doubt that you truly love us, but what about everything else you've said?"

"Whenever possible, I tried not to lie," Thom explained, his voice regretful. "I really only lied about being Warden Blackwall. I really did win the Melee at the Grand Tourney like I told you once. I _do_ have a younger sister: Rebecca. I lost touch with her when I--" he paused and took a deep breath. "I ran. She's probably married by now."

Malika nodded, relieved. That was what she'd _hoped_ would be his answer. She gently squeezed Josephine's hand. "Do you know what hurt the most about this whole situation?"

"You didn't approach me or Leliana about Mornay," Josephine told him when he shook his head, her distress and anger very obvious. "We could have saved his life without risking yours."

Not surprisingly, Thom shook his head. "And risked the Inquisition's reputation, which you risked anyway for me. No, I couldn't." He paused to take a drink of his ale. "I traded the deaths of my other men for a life on the run. It seemed only right that I trade Mornay's freedom with my own death."

"And we had no say in this matter?" Malika demanded, leaning forward in her chair, thinking of what he'd said at his judgment. "Not just me and Josie, who love you, but everyone else in the Inquisition. Your friends and colleagues. Didn't you feel any loyalty to _them_?"

Wrapping her arm around Malika's shoulders, Josephine continued, "We would have _helped_ , Thom, no questions asked."

"Of course I feel loyal to them-- and you two." Thom rubbed his forehead with the tips of his fingers. "If he hadn't been captured-- But he was one of mine, once. I couldn't--"

Malika slammed her hand down on the table, startling both humans. "You didn't _have_ to do it yourself, Thom. The Inquisition's reputation means nothing if we can't even use it to keep our people safe."

"Especially the ones we love the most." Josephine moved her hand to rub the base of Malika's neck, where her tension usually gathered when she was angry.

Thom closed his eyes, but not before Malika saw tears glittering in them. "I--"

"Do you _want_ to die, Thom Rainier?" Malika asked, standing up and moving around the table to cup his face in her hands once again. He didn't open his eyes.

Before he could reply, Josephine joined them, tilting his head up so he could look at both of them. When he kept his eyes closed, she requested gently, "Thom, please."

"Not at all, my ladies." He opened his eyes to look at them when he answered Malika's question. "I just wanted the lies and pretending to end."

Malika studied his face carefully and he didn't flinch from her scrutiny. "What do _you_ want out of a relationship with us, Thom Rainier?"

"Don't think about whether you're 'worthy' of us, or the fact that you lied to us," Josephine added, studying him just as intently.

He stared up at them, his eyes wide and surprised. Finally, his voice gravelly with emotion, he told them, "Maker help me, I still want to be with you both. I love you two so much, it _hurt_ to get up and leave for Val Royeaux without you. I've wanted to hear both of you say _my_ name when we make love pretty much from the beginning. More than anything, though, I want to spend the rest of my life with you two, in whatever capacity you choose: husband, lover, friend, court jester. I just want to be part of your lives."

"Court jester, hmm?" Malika asked, amused by the suggestion.

Josephine slipped her free arm around Malika's shoulders. "I prefer those first two ideas, to tell the truth."

"I lied about who I was, but I never lied about what I felt, for either of you." Thom gazed up at them with serious eyes. "No matter what I was or what becomes of me, at this moment, I'm just a man with his heart laid bare." Gently tugging their hands from his face, he clasped them in both of his. "I leave it in your hands."

Malika glanced up at Josephine inquiringly. They had to agree on whether to accept him back into their lives and their bed. After a moment, Josephine looked at Malika and nodded slightly. Nodding back, she looked at Thom, "You were ready to die, but we aren't ready to let you go. Your place is here with us."

"Not as the traitor you thought you were," Josephine echoed what Malika had said during Thom's judgment. "Or as the Warden you pretended to be, but as the man you are."

Shifting his grip on their hands, he brought them up to his lips to press kisses to the backs. "I don't know how to be with you as Thom Rainier."

"We'll figure it out together," Malika told him with a smile, feeling her heartbeat speed up.

Next to her, Josephine's breath hitched before she added, "You said you didn't lie about how you felt. Go with that."

"I love you, my ladies," he said, drawing them closer.

Malika gently freed her hand so she could wrap her arm around his shoulders. "I love you, too, Thom Rainier."

"And I love you, too, Thom," Josephine seconded, sliding her arm around him as well.

They just held each other, enjoying this new tenuous accord. _He still needs to earn our trust, but this is a good start._


	10. Surprise Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our trio begins to rebuild their relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prompt for this chapter is 'Surprise Kiss'.

A few days later, Josephine stood in Skyhold's courtyard, bidding farewell to Malika and Thom once more. They held each other in a tight embrace, each one of them with an arm around each of the other two. Her voice thick with tears over sending her loves off, Josephine told them, " _Please_ be careful, my loves."

"I'm _always_ careful, Josie," Malika countered with a smile on her lips and understanding in her blue eyes.

Thom tightened his arms around both of them. "I'll make sure she stays safe, my lady Josie."

"Keep _yourself_ safe, too, Thom," Josephine told him sternly. "I want _both_ of you back."

Malika laughed. "We'll keep _each other_ safe, Josie. Don't worry."

"Of course," Thom agreed with a nod.

Reluctantly pulling back from the embrace, Josephine bent to kiss Malika good-bye. As they stood with their foreheads pressed together, she asked, "Should I?"

"If you feel it's the right time for it," Malika whispered back, clearly knowing what Josephine was asking.

Thom looked at her in puzzlement when Josephine stopped in front of him. "My lady?"

"You may have left this behind when you left for Val Royeaux," she told him, pulling out the length of gold cloth she'd tied around his left upper arm before he and Malika left for Adamant. He'd left it beside the warden-constable's badge in the Inquisitor's quarters before leaving to save Mornay. "But you didn't set aside the love it represents. You should have it back."

Malika smiled reassuringly when Thom looked at her, tapping the cloth already tied around her left upper arm. "Please accept it back, Thom."

"Of course, my lady." He turned to present his left arm to Josephine so she could tie it there. "Thank you."

When she finished, Josephine turned Thom towards her so she could kiss him, just as she'd kissed Malika. He tensed in surprise for a moment before relaxing and lifting one hand to cup her cheek as he responded with equal parts tenderness, desperation, and devotion. She pressed her forehead to his when they parted to catch their breath. "Thank _you_ , Thom."

"Okay, lovebirds," Malika interjected after giving them a few moments. "I hate to spoil the moment, but we need to get going."

Thom brought Josephine's hand up to kiss the back. Softly, he told her, "I love you, my lady."

"I love you, too, Thom." She returned the gesture.

Reluctantly, he stepped back and turned to help Malika onto her pony. Once she was settled in her saddle, he mounted his own horse. They rode out the gates side-by-side. As Dorian and Varric followed, Josephine heard the dwarf say, "I could never include that kind of shit in a book. No one would find it believable."

"Yes, sometimes truth is stranger than fiction," Dorian agreed just before they passed out of earshot.

Josephine smiled to herself, touching her locket through her blouse. Remembering something, she hurried inside to look through her belongings. She'd set something aside long ago and now was the _perfect_ time to use it.

*

Malika had been grumpy the entire trip back from the Hinterlands. Not that Thom blamed her. Bianca's mistake had cost a lot of lives and neither Malika nor Varric had been pleased with Bianca for it. As they drew close to Skyhold, though, Malika's mood began to improve. Truthfully, so had Thom's. He fingered the gold cloth on his left arm. When he'd laid it down beside the warden-constable's badge, he hadn't expected to have it end up _back_ on his arm. But his lady Josie had proven him wrong, much to his pleasant surprise. Going by the lack of surprise from the others, they'd _expected_ Josephine to return her favor. When they finally trotted into Skyhold's courtyard, Thom finally felt like he was coming home. He dismounted first and helped Malika dismount in turn, gathering her close for a moment. She smiled up at him before a familiar voice called, "Mal! Thom!"

"Josie!" Smiling warmly, Malika moved past Thom to greet Josephine with a hug and a kiss.

Thom was ready when they parted and gathered Josephine into a warm hug. After only a brief hesitation, he kissed her as well, sweet and soft. "My lady."

"My love," she replied with a tender smile.

Accepting their saddlebags from the stable hands, Malika and Thom headed up the stairs with Josephine. "Is there anything that--"

"Inquisitor!" Cullen's voice rang across the great hall when they entered.

Malika glanced around as the Commander strode towards them. "Commander Cullen. What is it?"

"We finally deciphered the smugglers' letters you found in the Emerald Graves," he reported, handing her a stack of parchment.

She accepted the stack once Thom took her saddlebags and shuffled through them. She looked up with a frown. "Sahrnia? Why does that sound familiar?"

"Sahrnia is in Emprise du Lion," Thom informed her as they headed towards the war room, handing their saddlebags to a runner along the way.

Realization and horror spread across Malika's face as his explanation sank in. " _Stone_!"

"My love?" Josephine asked, resting a gentle hand on her shoulder.

When Malika only shook her head, Thom explained for Josephine and Cullen. "When we arrived at the Western Approach, we found an old mine with a few large red lyrium clusters growing out of the walls." Cullen stalked away towards the window. "The only explanation we found was a note to saying to 'pull up stakes' because the Inquisition was coming."

"And the plan was to relocate to Emprise du Lion," Malika flourished the parchment in her hand.

Josephine quickly took the parchment from her before she could wrinkle it further. Cullen turned from the window to ask, "You think there is a connection?"

"Oh, there _absolutely_ is, Commander," Malika nodded firmly. She looked at Josephine and Thom helplessly. "It's too late to leave today. I'll have to head out tomorrow morning for Emprise du Lion." She tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Hmm, Cassandra, Cole, and Solas for this trip, I think."

Thom stared at her, a little surprised. "My lady?"

"Seekers are immune to red lyrium," she explained, taking his hands in hers. "Cole's... uniqueness will be an immense help and Solas works better with Cole than Dorian or Vivienne."

He nodded reluctantly, accepting her reasoning. "I understand. Thank you for explaining."

"Thank _you_ , Thom." Malika hugged him tight.

He hugged her back, trying not to think of her leaving without him in the morning. Josephine gently interrupted them. "I've sent runners to request their presence, Mal."

"Thanks, Josie." Malika reluctantly released Thom and moved to the war table.

After hugging Josephine, Thom left the war room. As he crossed Josephine's office, Cassandra entered from the great hall. She hesitated when she saw him. Then she squared her shoulders and stalked past him without even acknowledging his presence. Hiding a wince, he continued to his quarters. He may as well unpack his saddlebags.

The following morning, he stood with Josephine as Malika and the others prepared to depart. She hugged and kissed the ambassador, and then turned to Thom. The hug he expected. The kiss, though, was a surprise. It was every bit as desperate and longing as he'd have expected. "Stay safe, my lady."

"I'll do my best." She closed her eyes for a moment. "I hate this part."

"The sooner you go, the sooner you'll finish and return to us." Thom gently urged her towards her pony, kneeling so she could use his knee to mount up.

Malika gathered Lya's reins in her hands and gazed down at him. He jumped slightly when he felt Josephine slip her hand into his. Thom glanced at her with a smile and a gentle squeeze of her hand. He looked back at Malika as Josephine told her, "Travel safely, my love, and return as soon as you can."

"I will, my loves." Nodding to them both, Malika clicked her tongue and Lya started forward. Solas and Cole followed closely.

Cassandra reined in her horse next to Thom and Josephine. Looking straight ahead, she told them, "I will protect the Inquisitor to the best of my abilities."

"Thank you, Cassandra." "Thank you."

Barely nodding, she set off after Malika and the others.

*

Dorian met them when they returned from Emprise du Lion. He barely let Malika dismount before he gathered her into a tight hug. She clung to him, clutching at his robe. " _Worse_ than what we saw in the future Redcliffe."

"Is that even _possible_?" Dorian asked, stroking her hair.

She nodded, pulling back from him at the sound of a familiar and welcome voice: "My lady Mal."

" _Thom_." She disentangled herself from Dorian and flung herself at Thom.

He held her close, his voice rumbling in his chest. "I'm sorry I wasn't with you."

Another pair of arms encircled them both. "He's been kicking himself for not insisting on going with you ever since your first report on the quarry."

"I swore to protect you." He looked down at her seriously. "I can't do that if I stay here while you go off to fight."

Rolling her eyes, Malika poked him in the side. "You know my reasons. If you're going to blame anyone, blame me."

"It doesn't matter who's to blame," Josephine interjected. "Though, it _should_ be Corypheus if we blame anyone at all."

Thom chuckled and kissed Josephine, quick and fond. "You make a good point, my lady."

"Yes, she does." Malika smiled up at Josephine, amused by the startled expression on her face before a fond smile replaced it.

Leaning down to kiss Malika in greeting, Josephine told her, "We have matters to discuss, but not here."

"Yes, love." Malika kissed Josephine again before she could straighten up. "Let's go inside, hmm?"

Thom nodded and held up a hand. "First things first." He bent and kissed Malika in greeting as well. "I missed you, my lady."

"I missed you, too, Thom," she whispered back, surprised and flustered by his move. _Oh, yes, we **definitely** need to talk._

They headed inside together, Malika hardly able to keep her hands to herself. The moment the door to her quarters closed behind them, she turned and reached for her lovers, not caring which of them she kissed first. It happened that Thom reacted first, pulling her into a hungry kiss. She held tight to his gambeson, pressing as close to him as she could. "The stairs are hardly the best place for this, you two."

"Yes, you're right, my lady." Thom ended the kiss, to a whine of dismay from Malika. She didn't want it to end.

Josephine nudged them up the stairs, looking amused. The moment she reached the top, Malika turned and pulled Josephine into a kiss. "Please..."

"I don't think she's going to be good for anything until we do something," Thom remarked conversationally to no one because Josephine was too busy kissing Malika.

When they paused to breathe, Malika began kissing along Josephine's neck, tugging at buttons and knots. "Mal..."

"Yes, Josie." Malika was too eager to bother reaching the bed at the moment.

Thom chuckled and began to help. Malika smiled and kissed his cheek. _We'll talk **after**._


	11. Love Potion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Malika has a gift for Thom before they head to the Arbor Wilds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prompt for this chapter is 'love potion'.
> 
> Doesn't exactly fill the prompt, but I tried to follow the spirit of the prompt.

"Hello?" Thom's voice floated up the stairs to Josephine and Malika, who'd been sitting quietly, finishing up the day's work.

Exchanging a smile with Malika, Josephine called back, "Come on up, Thom."

"We were waiting for you to get indecent," Malika added with a mischievous smile, tucking her work into the lap desk Thom had made for her.

Chuckling, Thom reached the top of the stairs as Malika set the lap desk aside. "I highly doubt that, but I'll take the compliment."

"As you should." Josephine walked over to greet him with a hug and a soft kiss. "In all seriousness, we were just finishing our work."

Malika smiled when they reached the couch, hugging Thom and kissing him, lingering a little over it. "I have something for you."

"Do you now?" Thom sat down beside Malika on the couch.

Josephine smiled warmly as she sat down next to Thom. She knew what Malika had for him and couldn't wait to see his reaction. She took his hand and squeezed it gently. "You're going to like it, I'm sure."

"Shh, Josie, don't give the surprise away," Malika scolded, reaching into her lap desk for the small box.

Thom drew in a breath when he saw it. Clearly, he recognized it. "Mal..."

"Just open it, Thom," Josephine urged him, wanting to see his reaction.

He laughed and carefully unwrapped the box, revealing a locket very similar to the one Malika had made and given to Josephine. Made of silverite, like Josephine's, it had the Cadash crest engraved on one side. Unlike hers, which had the Montilyet family crest on the other side, Thom's had a griffon engraved on the other side with his initials across it. Leaning against his side, Malika explained, "Right, so I had some trouble making this, which is why I didn't give it to you when I gave Josie hers before we left for Adamant. Then, by the time it _was_ ready, well..."

"The truth had come out," Thom finished when Malika trailed off. "This is amazing detail, Mal."

Josephine smiled, touching her own locket. "And, of course, inside..."

"Are locks of mine and Josie's hair," Malika finished as Thom opened the locket to find their hair twined together.

Closing it, Thom gathered Malika into a tight hug, barely choking out, "Thank you."

"Our love was never in doubt, Thom," Josephine reminded him, pressing against his back.

Malika smiled up at him. "This means you can come and go from my quarters as you please again. They're your quarters, too, now."

"Maker's balls, you're going to make me cry." He wiped at his eyes, and then held out the locket to her. "Please, put it on for me."

Josephine chuckled and helped Malika by pulling Thom's hair out of the way. "There you go."

"I'm kind of glad I didn't have this ready along with Josie's now." Malika adjusted the locket so it nestled just below the hollow of his throat.

He reached up and touched it, his eyes glittering with unshed tears. "I _had_ wondered. I worried that you'd somehow figured out the truth."

"Not at all." Josephine kissed his cheek.

Malika, having knelt on the couch to make it easier to put the locket on Thom, took advantage of her position to kiss him again, warm and loving. "It'd been awhile since I made jewelry and I just happened to finish Josie's first."

"Well, thank you very much, my lady Mal." Smiling, Thom pulled her into his lap for a proper kiss, which she returned eagerly, winding her arms around his neck.

Smiling, Josephine pressed close to begin teasing them with kisses to their necks. She'd rather expected the evening to go this way. They were leaving for the Arbor Wilds tomorrow. Who knew when they'd get to indulge themselves like this again?

*

"I did not expect the Well to feel so... hungry," Morrigan remarked as she and Malika stood staring down at it.

Thom moved closer to the two women, distrustful of the tone of the witch's voice. Malika didn't take her eyes off Morrigan. "Let's not be reckless. I don't want anyone hurt."

"I am willing to pay the price the Well demands," Morrigan replied after staring at the Well for a long, silent moment. "I am also the best suited to use its knowledge in your service."

Solas countered her with a scornful expression. "Or more likely, to your own ends."

"What would you know of my 'ends,' Elf?" Morrigan snapped, glaring at him.

Solas snapped right back at her, the angriest Thom had ever seen him, "You are a glutton drooling at the sight of a feast. You cannot be trusted."

"Of those present, I alone have the training to make use of this." Morrigan glanced disdainfully at Thom and Sera, completely ignoring Solas now. "Let me drink, Inquisitor."

Malika raised her eyebrows at Morrigan, and then glanced at Solas. "I should think that Solas was better suited. It's _his_ heritage, after all."

"No." He shook his head, looking ready to step back if Malika insisted. "Do not ask me again."

Glancing at Thom and Sera, Malika then looked at Morrigan. "Perhaps I should drink, then."

"You lead the Inquisition," Morrigan reminded her, sounding desperate now. "This is not a risk you can take. I have the best chance of making use of the Well... for everyone. Let me drink."

After gazing up at Morrigan for a long moment, Malika turned to the rest of them. 'Thoughts?"

"She is right about only one thing," Solas answered promptly. "We should take the power which lies in that well."

Sera replied while Thom debated with himself over what to say. "It's called the Well of Sorrows. Sorrows. No one should go in the Well of _Sorrows_."

"I won't lose you, my lady," Thom finally told her, moving to her side. He'd come close to it so many times already. If there was a chance to avoid it _this_ time, they should take it. "Let the witch use the Well."

She reached up to clasp his hand, her smile sad and understanding. Morrigan interrupted before Malika could say anything, "Enough deliberation. Give me your decision."

"If anyone is to use the Well, it will be me." Malika looked up at him apologetically and Thom gathered her into a tight hug. She hugged him back, gently pulling him down so she could whisper to him, "I don't trust her with it, Thom. I'm sorry."

He closed his eyes and nodded, resigned. "I understand, my lady. I love you."

"I love you, too." She pressed their foreheads together for a moment before letting him stand up. When he moved back to join the other two, Sera hugged him for a moment and Solas gave him an understanding nod.

Morrigan sighed, but didn't argue any further. "Do as you will with the Well of Sorrows, Inquisitor, but be careful."

Slowly, carefully, Malika stepped down into the liquid. It swirled around her, but her clothes and weapons remained dry. Turning, she looked back at them with a reassuring smile. Then she cupped her hands together to scoop up the liquid and drink. The burst of magic that followed knocked all of them to the ground. Thom clambered back to his feet as quickly as he could, but the others were faster, gathering around Malika, who lay unconscious at the bottom of what had been the Well. He pushed his way between them to kneel beside her, his heartbeat thudding in his chest. "My lady? Maker, please let her keep breathing."

"Thom?" Malika whispered his name as she stirred and slowly pushed herself into a sitting position. "Oh, my head."

"How do you feel?" he asked, unable to stop himself from pulling her into a tight hug, reassuring himself that she was still alive, still with them.

She clung to him in turn, her face pressed into his neck. "I--" Then she stiffened and pulled away, turning to look back the way they'd come. Corypheus stood there and gave a cry of rage when he saw them. As he started flying towards them, the others readied for battle, but Morrigan cried, "No, through the eluvian. You have the key now, Inquisitor."

Malika thought for a moment, and then gestured towards the eluvian with her right hand. It began to glow and Morrigan ran through first, followed by Sera and Solas. Thom scooped up Malika and followed them through. He stumbled to his knees on the familiar worn stones of Skyhold, still holding Malika. He didn't think anything of the crunch he heard until Malika said, "Thom, don't move."

"What?" He blinked and looked around. "Maker's balls."

Scattered across the floor were shards of red lyrium, some as small as pebbles, others large enough to be weapons. Morrigan, Solas, and Sera stood in the doorway to the small room, both mages with their hands extended. Malika stayed in his arms and looked at the others. "Someone go get Dagna. She'll need to dispose of these."

"On it, Glowy." Giving a jaunty salute, Sera took off.

Solas and Morrigan slowly lowered their hands. Malika looked at Morrigan. "Please go inform Leliana of our return. Josephine and Cullen will need to be notified."

"I--" Morrigan seemed ready to protest, but stopped when Solas turned to her. Reluctantly, she nodded. "Yes, Inquisitor."

Alone with them, Solas said, " _Why_ Malika? Why did you drink it?"

"I don't trust Morrigan," Malika told him simply. "I trust _you_ , though."

That caught Solas off-guard, because he reared back as if he'd been struck. "What?"

"I trust you to do what's necessary if the worst happens," Malika explained.

Thom tightened his arms around her. "Mal, what are you saying?"

"The Well of Sorrows," she explained, shifting to look at him. "Drinking it bound me to Mythal, whoever she is. She can force me to do whatever she wants if she chooses. I trust Solas to stop me somehow if it's not something I would normally do. Even to the point of killing me."

Shaking his head, Thom hugged her tightly, burying his face in her hair. "No, Mal. Don't--"

"I _have_ to think of these things, Thom," she whispered, hugging him back. "I half-expect the final confrontation to--"

Thom shook his head again. "No, my lady. You've survived this long. You _will_ survive again."

"Stone, I hope so." She eased back enough to kiss him. She tasted of cool metal, stinging cold, and ancient wisdom.

As he held her close, a strange voice whispered in the back of his head: _Trust her._

*

Malika _hated_ waiting for things to happen. That's why she'd volunteered to go to the Conclave: it meant _doing_ something instead of waiting. And she ended up with an anchor on her hand, leadership of an entire organization, and now voices in her head. So, here she was, waiting for Cullen and Josephine to return from the Arbor Wilds. It was worth it, though, to greet Josephine and Cullen when they arrived, playful and teasing, "Well, this is a bit of a change, isn't it, Josie?"

"Oh, my love." Josephine slid from her horse's back and gathered Malika to her for a fierce, enthusiastic kiss that was equal parts relief and happiness.

Making a surprised sound in the back of her throat, Malika responded eagerly to the kiss, winding her arms around Josephine's waist to pull her closer. She could get used to this. After a few moments, Cullen cleared his throat very loudly. "Inquisitor."

"Oh!" Josephine blushed and pulled back, her hands coming up to cover her cheeks. "I'm sorry. I don't know what got into me."

Smiling, Thom pulled her into a kiss of his own. Malika giggled at the exasperated expression on Cullen's face. "We've missed her, Cullen."

"I understand, Malika." The exasperation faded and Cullen relaxed.

When she'd judged that Thom and Josephine had had enough time to say 'hello', Malika loudly told them, "Time to break it up, you two. We can finish saying our hellos later."

"Fine, fine." Thom chuckled, gently easing back from the kiss.

Josephine looked a little dazed, clutching Thom's sleeve. "Well! I--"

"I'm pleased to report we won the battle, Inquisitor." Cullen interrupted before she could continue her thought, looking both satisfied and concerned. "When you went through that mirror, Corypheus and his Archdemon fled the field. I'm not sure why."

Morrigan had joined them by then and she shrugged as she provided an answer, "What he wanted was no longer within the temple."

"Perhaps." Cullen didn't look completely convinced, not that Malika blamed him. "He spent so long trying to get into the temple, he probably couldn't have helped his forces by that point."

A little hopefully, Josephine asked, "Then Corypheus is finished?"

"If he is wise, he will hide and rebuild his strength before he attacks again," Leliana offered, joining them as well, one of her birds perched on her shoulder.

Standing with Josephine and Thom, Malika bowed her head for a moment, listening to the voices. They'd become almost constant background noise now and she could understand them best when she stilled herself and waited. "He will not hide. It's not in his nature."

"How do you know?" Cullen all but demanded.

Josephine and Thom tightened their arms around Malika's shoulders, clearly protective of her. It was a familiar reaction from Thom, but new from Josephine. Malika sighed softly, resigned to explaining, _again_. "Let's go to the war room."

"Mal." Josephine held her back while the others walked ahead.

Taking Josephine's hands, Malika squeezed them gently. "I've told this story several times already, Josie. I'd rather tell you and Cullen together."

"I missed you," Josephine told her, kissing her again.

Malika smiled and returned the kiss. "I missed you, too. I'll show you _how_ much later."

"I look forward to it."


	12. Watching Sunset

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Corypheus is dead. It's over! Isn't it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prompt for this chapter is 'watching sunset'. So it's a sun _rise_ they're watching. The principle is the same.
> 
> Shorter than previous chapters. It doesn't _need_ more.

"My lady Inquisitor, leaving your own celebration so soon?" Thom asked as Malika approached the door to her quarters.

She turned back to see Thom and Josephine standing nearby, smiling fondly. "May we join you, my love?"

"Of course." Smiling, Malika took their hands in hers and drew them with her through the door.

Laughing, they traded kisses as they climbed up the stairs to their quarters. Once they reached the top, Thom looked between the two women, his smile soft and wondering. "We've been through a lot, haven't we?"

"Yes, we certainly have." Josephine agreed, slipping an arm around Thom's waist.

Looking at the two of them together, Malika observed, "The destination was worth the journey."

"I'll never tire of how you see the best in everything… and everyone." Thom shook his head in disbelief. "Even after everything I've done, we're all still here. Together."

Josephine gasped softly and moved out onto the balcony to look out at the rising sun. "I--the celebrations appear to be winding down with the sunrise." She continued to stare at the sunrise. "I've never witnessed such a lovely sight."

"Nor I." Malika hardly spared the sun a glance, her eyes only on Josephine.

Josephine looked at Malika curiously and blushed when she realized Malika didn't mean the sunrise. "Sometimes your words are so sweet, they ache."

"That's love." Malika told her as she turned towards the dwarf.

Josephine gently corrected Malika. "That's you."

Thom chuckled, slipping his arms around them both as Josephine took Malika's hands in hers, warm and tender. "It's both, my lady Josie."

"It's been good to have this celebration, free of what the future holds," Josephine mused, tilting her head to rest on his shoulder. "Whatever awaits us, my loves, I know only one thing: I would never have either of you face it alone."

Malika smiled happily up at both of them. "I can't think of anything better than having you both at my side."

"I love you, Mal, Josie."

"I love you, too, Thom, Mal."

"And I love you both, Josie, Thom."


	13. Love Marks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Varric observes our star trio during Wicked Grace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An even shorter chapter. The prompt for this one was 'love marks'.

Varric paid more attention to the others at the card table than his own cards. They were all quite relaxed and happy for once. He was glad to have suggested playing Wicked Grace. As the evening progressed and Malika drank more ale, she gradually loosened the scarf around her neck, eventually removing it entirely. Varric grinned into his own mug at the sight of two hickeys on either side of Malika's neck. Though the positions exactly mirrored each other, one was slightly larger than the other, as if they'd been made by two different people.

He looked over at Rainier, who'd gradually untied each tie for his gambeson as the evening progressed. Like Malika and her scarf, he eventually removed it entirely, hanging it over the back of his chair. Varric hid another smile when he spotted a pair of hickeys on either side of neck as well. Like Malika's their positions were perfect mirrors, but their sizes were different.

Looking at Josephine, he was a little disappointed to see that she remained as thoroughly and properly dressed as always. Her gold neckcloth remained firmly tied around her neck. She hadn't been drinking as much as any of the others, either, so she probably didn't feel too warm. Still, when she leaned forward to call a bet, Varric could _just_ see the edge of a hickey peeking out from under the neckcloth. He'd bet good money that she had a pair of hickeys, too, matched in placement, but mismatched in size.

He focused on the game once more, glad that _some_ people were lucky in love at least.


	14. Acceptance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Malika struggles with the loss of her arm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prompt for this chapter was NSFW or Free if we didn't feel comfortable with that.
> 
> Spoilers for Trespasser (I tried to limit them).
> 
> I meant this to be sweet and fluffy, but Malika had other ideas: dwarves are craft-y and fight-y. How can a one-armed dwarf do either?

Malika had never been body shy. Growing up in a small house, and then working for the Carta had cured her of any modesty. Since the loss of her arm (and the Anchor with it, thank the Stone), she'd hesitated to undress completely in front of her lovers. Before, they'd often bathed together, but now Malika insisted on complete privacy while she bathed, a request Josephine and Thom reluctantly granted. Washing with one hand was difficult, but manageable. Then, a day happened where _everything_ went wrong and _nothing_ went right. When Malika tried to take a bath to wash away the terrible horribleness of the day, even _that_ went wrong and she just _sat_ in the seat at the side of the tub and pressed her remaining hand to her mouth, desperately fighting back tears, _yet again_. As she sat there, someone knocked on the door to the bathing room. "My lady, are you all right?"

"May we come in?" Josephine's question followed hard on the heels of Thom's. They must have both been standing there.

A quiet whine escaped before Malika could stop it. Taking a deep breath, she decided it was time and managed to call out, "Yes."

"All right, we're coming in," Thom's words preceded the opening of the door and Malika sat miserably in the water as her lovers entered.

Both had already changed in preparation for their own baths, towels wrapped around them for modesty's sake. A distant part of Malika admired them as they approached, the towels somehow making them _more_ enticing by hiding rather than revealing. They stopped near where Malika still sat, doing her best to hide what remained of her left arm. "My love?"

"J-Josie." Malika gulped, feeling tears well in her eyes. "T-Thom."

With that, she burst into tears, giving vent to the emotions she'd been holding back until her temples ached and her eyes burned. Malika hardly noticed that Thom and Josephine slipped into the water on either side of her until Josephine gathered her close and she felt Thom's chest pressing against her back. Still crying, she buried her face in Josephine's shoulder and reached down to grip Thom's arm with her one hand. How long they sat there while she cried, Malika had no idea. Gradually, she became aware of Thom humming tunelessly, his chest vibrating pleasantly against her back, and Josephine stroking her dark red hair, which now fell to the middle of her back when she didn't have it pulled back. In time, her tears, and accompanying sobs, slowed and finally stopped. She relaxed between her lovers with a quiet exhale. Thom kissed the top of her head. "Better, my lady?"

"Y-yes." Malika hiccupped, reluctantly releasing his arm so she could wipe at her face.

Josephine gently tilted her head up and kissed the tip of her nose. "You don't need to be strong for us, Mal. We're here to support you."

"It's what love is," Thom added, kissing her cheek. "It doubles the joy and halves the sorrow."

A small smile curving her mouth, Malika asked, "What about when it's _three_?"

"Quadruples the joy and quarters the sorrow," Josephine answered promptly, as if she'd _expected_ the question, and kissed Malika's forehead.

Thom kissed her temple. "Stop shutting us out, Mal. You've barely let us touch you before now."

"I--I." She stopped and gulped, reluctantly shifting so she could extend the stump of her left arm. "How can I still call myself a dwarf when I can't _do_ anything? I can't shoot, I can't _make_ anything. All I'm good for is being a figurehead."

Josephine shook her head and hugged Malika once more. "That doesn't _define_ you, my love."

"As for not shooting or being unable to craft..." Thom shifted uncomfortably in the water. "I, um, spoke with Harritt and Dagna. About creating a prosthetic for you."

Blinking, Malika turned and stared at him. "You what?"

"You'd shut us out, Mal," Josephine reminded her, letting Malika turn to face Thom properly. "We weren't sure what to do."

Thom nodded. "I'd seen my share of missing limbs while I was a soldier. Most ended up with prosthetics of some kind. Harritt and Dagna have designed prosthetics that you can switch out, depending on what you want to do."

"Oh." Malika felt even smaller than she usually did, looking down as she thought back over the past month. She hadn't realized it, but she _had_ been shutting out her lovers. She'd barely kissed them, never let them see her naked, and usually slipped out of bed before they woke up in the mornings. Looking up at them, she told them, "I'm sorry."

Josephine smiled and kissed her softly. "We love you, my lady."

"And we forgive you, my love." Thom kissed her next.

Malika stared at them in surprise, and then narrowed her eyes. "You two are going to be _very_ dangerous together."

"You love us this way." Still smiling, Josephine kissed her again.

Thom moved closer, kissing Malika's neck. "And wouldn't change us for all the gold in Thedas."

"Stone help me, I _do_ love you both." She tilted her head back with a quiet moan. "Just the way you are."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't actually _played_ through Trespasser, though I've been spoiled for it (obviously).
> 
> The idea for interchangeable prosthetics came from Gobber from _How to Train Your Dragon_.


End file.
